Greener Pastures
by Cure
Summary: Benson was a cranky freelance writer, until by some misfortune he found himself unemployed. His cousin, Jack, invited him to help him on his farm, and Benson agreed. He did not, however, expect the crazed inhabitants of Flower Bud Village.
1. Cut Loose

Chapter One: Cut Loose

I awoke slowly. The morning sunlight filtered through my closed eyelids. I groaned. It was time to get up. I gradually got off my bed, and stumbled onto the floor. I stood up straight and stretched languidly. My eyes opened and shut right away, trying to hide from the light. I rubbed them. I looked down at myself. I was only wearing a pair of light blue boxers. Ugh, what the hell happened last night?

I rooted around my room for a shirt. There was a button down of red plaid on the floor, I picked it up and put it on. The phone rang. I glanced at the digital alarm clock. The neon green numbers red 10:37am. Great, just great.

I begrudgingly picked up the damned ringing instrument.

"Benson here. Yeah, talk to me" I answered.

A gruff, annoyed voice replied, the familiar voice of one of my illustrious colleagues. He worked for the same local fish rag I did, covered local sports. He was an alright guy, if a little brash and uptight.

"Yeah Art," I said. "What is it this time? Uh-huh, yeah."

I opened the top drawer of the nightstand and removed a pack of cigarettes. I rustled around it a little more and uncovered a lighter. I shook the pack and a single cigarette dropped out. I plunked it into my mouth and lit it up.

"Yeah Art, I sent it in two days ago. Yeah, well, dunno what to tell you." As I began to smoke the cigarette I could feel the tension of the morning begin to slip away.

There was some more rabble on the other end of the line, something about missed deadlines, erratic scrawling and puff pieces. Most of the so called journalists and writers down at that paper were real crocks anyway.

"Yeah, I'll be here." I hung up the phone. There was a distant squeak. Mail call. Not even eleven o'clock and the mail was already here. Must be my lucky day. I left my bedroom slowly, pausing in the doorway after I opened it. I looked at the mirror hung over at the other wall. Weary hazel eyes looked back. I was a mess. My brown hair looked as if a Hun had been its stylist. I could use a shave too, and some exercise too. I was out of shape, with a beer belly already slightly forming.

I groaned and moved on. I meandered through my living room, reaching my stereo. I pressed the play button, not even caring what CD was in. Some alternative rock band could probably use a better signer. I turned the volume up and continued my way to the front door and the mail slot. There were a few white envelops scattered in a small area before it. I picked them up, and plopped down on the beat-up couch that made up the living room's centerpiece.

Bill, bill, you may have one million dollars, some junk mail about dishwasher, and a dirtied up envelope addressed to… "Cousin Benny?" I said aloud.

I tossed the other mail aside and tore into this mystery letter. Who would call me 'Cousin Benny?' No one had called me that in years, and no one about that would send an envelope that looked like it made its way through a safari. The return address was listed as 3-1 Riverside, Flower Bud Village. No name listed.

I tore open the enveloped, eviscerating much of it in the process. I was never good at opening the blasted things. I had a feeling in the back of my mind who had sent the letter.

_Hello, Cousin Benny!_

Oh. It was my cousin Jack. I shook my head and grinned. I should've known from the start. The letter continued with my cousin's usually style of being overly-cheery, overly-nice, and overly-annoying. He was beating around the bush. I skimmed until I reached a good part.

_Anyway, the reason I'm writing you is that I'm currently running a farm in Flower Bud Village. I was wondering if you'd like to come down here and help me run it. You were always good with plants and stuff and I seem to be having some trouble getting things to grow._

Jackie Boy, what have you gotten yourself into this time? Farming? Farming! You big dolt. No doubt he went in being the blind optimist he was with absolutely no regard to the consequences. I laughed a little. That was so Jack. The letter went on to describe contact information, as well as directions to this Flower Bud Village.

Before I could mull over the letter anymore, the phone rang. This I was expecting; no doubt a personal call from the editor, my superior, a typical hardass with no room for slackers or flow. He was my antithesis. I went back to my room and picked up the phone.

"Yeah Ned. Yup, I talked to Art." There was some boss-like moaning at the other end. "What's this got to do with… Now hold on here for a sec."

The day just turned sour.

"Liability? What kind of crap you trying to pull here, Ned? You listen here you son of a bitch…" The other line went dead. I slammed the phone down on the receiver. Well, hello unemployment. I rubbed my eyes and finished off my cigarette.

I sighed. "Well, crap."

I went back out into the living room, meaning to go the fridge and get good and smashed. I passed my cousin's letter on the couch's arm. I stopped. Farming, eh? I grabbed the letter, and went back to the phone. I picked it up.

"Yeah, operator? Get me a connection with somebody in Flower Bud Village, please."


	2. Now Arriving

Chapter Two: Now Arriving

The train whistle blew. I stepped off the pine green train and onto the platform. It was a small structure, just a raised platform and some pillars on the outer edges supporting a pointed red roof. I looked around myself. There was nothing for a few miles. The train tracks themselves came from the north and continued east. A faint dirt path led directly west, toward some hills a few miles away. To the south was the ocean. Where was the village?

I sat down my suitcase, took off my satchel and sat down on one of the wooden benches the stop provided. Jesus, I was in the middle of a literal nowhere. Who would go out of their way to build a station in the middle of friggin' nowhere? Who would build a village in the middle of nowhere? I lowered my head into my hands. Christ, what had I gotten myself into?

Someone coughed. I looked up. Across from me on another bench was an elderly mustached gentleman. He didn't have much hair on top of his head, but it was rather wiry and bushy all around it. He had thick white eyebrows above eyes that seemed constantly locked in a frowning position. He was wearing a blue tunic and matching cloth pants. He was also wearing sandals, a weird choice for someone _his_ age.

"Hey uh," I started, rubbing my eyes. "You wouldn't happen to know where, uh, Flower Bud Village is?"

The old man glared at me for a few seconds before replying. "A few miles that way," He jabbed a short thumb towards the western hills. Friendly old coot.

I look wearily west. The dirt path was the only thing there. I turned back to the old guy. "Is there like an um… bus or something?"

"Nope, no bus." The old man curtly replied.

I looked back west. "Oh… baby."

A couple miles later I passed under a wooden archway that signaled that I had entered Flower Bud Village. You could barely call it a village, just a cluster of buildings surrounded by some cruddy little paths made of stone. Most of the buildings were empty, and it seemed like no one had lived here for years.

I first passed through a large village square, made of neat blue stone and surrounded by large flowerbeds of sandstone. The square could have fit several houses easily and had a signboard and large bin in one corner. What the hell were they doing with such a huge square?

I exited the square. Posted next to the exit was a short signpost with arrow signs pointed in three different directions. The one to my immediate right pointed north towards an imposing mountain. It read "Mt. Moon." A second pointed behind me, back to the square and read "Flower Bud Square." The third pointed to my left, to the south, and read "the Beach."

I stood there for a few moments, dumbfounded on the stupidity of the sign. It pointed to things I could have figured out easily on my own, and not something useful, like the freaking street names. It was useless! How was I supposed to find Jack's farm?

As I stood there thinking what a dolt my cousin for coming to such a hick town, a midget in a red coat and top hat walked passed me. He gave a soft "excuse me" as he did. Good god, he looked straight out of the circus, sporting a bushy mustache and monocle of all things.

"Uh, hey! You with the hat," I began oh so tactfully.

"Yes?" the midget replied. Whew, no squeaking or ironic deep voice, or even some Irish accent. Any of those things would have been totally unreal.

"Where can I find Kingsford Farm?" I asked.

"Kingsford?" The man frowned for a second, before smiling. "Oh! Kingsford! You must be young mister Miller's cousin! He told us he was bringing in some outside help. Poor boy doesn't have much of green thumb."

Mister Miller? Christ this guy was weird. Who referred to anyone by their surname like that anymore? He probably referred to all the ladies as "young misses."

"Just follow this road," said the midget. He pointed northwards. "Take the second left, and follow the path all the way to the end. Kingsford Farm is the last one on the right."

"Thanks," I muttered.

The small man answered, "No problem," and hurried on his way south, in the opposite direction.

I followed his directions. It was a pleasant walk through the heart of the village. There were more houses on each side, some used, some not. I could see inside some of them. There were people behind shop counters, people cooking lunch, people cleaning. Not many people, I mused. I turned left when the circus midget said and passed by a ranch. It was a pretty impressive ranch with a large field full of grass and animals. There was a young dude, about my age I guess, working the fields. He wore a baseball cap, and didn't even look up at me as I passed by.

At last, I found what must have been Jacks' farm, Kingsford Farm. Where he pulled that idea from, I could not guess. I was impressed, the slice of land Jack had was pretty nice; decent size, situated next to a river. I put down my suitcase and bent over to sample the soil. What do you know, wasn't that bad either! It had a bit of weeds on it, and two large trees which would take up large amounts of space and cast too much shade on potential crops.

The crop field was directly next to the river bed on my left. To my right was the farmhouse, wooden, and a bit worn and old. From what I could where I stood it was a pretty sturdy thing. A good house for a bachelor. It had a wood bin on the side, with a doghouse and bowl sitting next to that. A series of four fences surrounded it, with openings at each of the four corners. They were for show, nothing more.

I knocked on the door. No response. I knocked again. Still no response. Lazy prick was probably snoozing somewhere. Some farmer he turned out to be.

"Cousin Benny!" said a voice behind me.

I turned around. There was the bastard himself. I groaned. "Jack, we're not kids anymore, call me Benson."

The cheeky little prick grinned and we embraced each other in a brotherly hug. He hadn't changed much since the last time I saw him. Jack was still the scrawny kid he always had been, nothing in the way of muscle or fat. He had brown eyes, and a small slant of a nose. He often had a grin between his two round ears. What really made my eyes was the clothing he wore. It was completely and utterly Jack. He wore denim overalls, and a match blue cap. The cap no less, worn backwards with a tuft of his brown hair above the snap. Didn't anyone tell him the 90s were over?

"Right, right," Jack nodded, smiling. "Well welcome to the farm! How was your trip?"

I shrugged. "Train ride was pretty typical. I wasn't expecting the little hike from the station."

Jack gave me a goofy grin. "Oh yeah, should've mention that. Oh well, not much I can do about it either way."

I chuckled. Same cheery bastard he'd always been. "Jack you dolt, this village is halfway falling apart into the ground. Why on earth would you come out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Oh, it's all part of the Exciting Ranch Plan the mayor set up," Jack started to explain. "It's a cool little program that's supposed breathe life back in the village."

"What did you pay for this little slice o' heaven anyway?"

"It was free! Provided I run a successful farm."

"You're joking." I started at him.

"Am not!" He replied. "'Cross my heart and hope to die!"

"Giving something like this away for free? Pfft! If anyone in civilization caught wind of this, half the world would be here, especially with the way things are now."

"It's the truth. Every word. You can ask the mayor yourself when you meet him."

I scratched the back of my head. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," I changed the subject. "Alright c'mon let's see the inside of this house here." I opened the door and stepped inside.

It was a one-room shindig. Not much. Two beds on the left wall, a primitive kitchen on the right. There was an ancient TV and calendar on the far wall, and a small table in the middle of the room. There were also some shelves, a toolbox, and a bookcase in various places along the walls. All in all, a fine room.

"You get the bed on the left," said Jack.

"Fine, fine," said I, dropping my suitcase at the bed's foot. I tossed my satchel onto bed itself. I stretched. What a long morning it had been. I gave sigh. "Okay, let's go look at the field of yours."

Jack looked surprised. "What? Don't you wanna rest first? Eat lunch?"

"Nope," I walked past him to the door. "You're a farmer now Jack, let's go get this sorted out now."

We both exited the farmhouse, and walked out into the fields. I looked around. "Jack, you said you planted seeds in your letter, right?"

"Yup."

I nodded. "Where exactly did you plant the seeds?"

He gestured to an area cleared of weeds. "Right about around here."

I didn't even bother looking where he motioned. He was such a goddamn idiot. "Jack, you didn't even till the soil…"

"Huh?" The boy didn't have a clue what I was talking about.

I started to explain. "Before you plant seeds, you have to till the soil, so they'll have proper soil to grow in. Otherwise, they'll never take root, and the birds will get 'em."

"Oh," He looked disappointed.

I sighed. "Can I assume this damn town sells seeds somewhere? Or do we need to order things from the Pony Express?"

"Yeah, Spring Farm, not far from here across the river. They sell seeds and growing stuff." Jack answered.

I smiled. "Alright then, we're taking a walk down there. Get you're dough, we're going shopping."

Several minutes later we crossed the wooden bridge and began our walk towards Spring Farm. It was a pleasant walk, and as I saw more of the town, I realized it didn't seem like such a place after all. Beautiful flowers and trees dotted the place everywhere. Nice place to retire before you die, and here I was at the age of twenty-four.

We passed fewer houses on our way down to Spring Farm than I did walking to Kingsford. Jack explained that this part of town was not very well settled, and the major people down this way were the carpenters and Spring Farm. According to Jack, there were only three other farms in the village.

"Spring Farm sells only crops, Blue Sky Ranch deals with animal products."

"What about this third joint?"

"Jaime Ranch."

"And they do what?"

"Everything. There's only one person doing everything, and whatever gets done, gets done really well. Bit of a mean person too."

"I'm well-acquainted with people like that."

"Not this person, you'll see."

We walked around a corner, and the land opened up into a large fenced clearing encircled by the stone path. The field was properly tilled, and full of blossoming crops. To the far right of us was a large farm house, and a smaller shack a few feet away from the main building. In the fields there was girl tending the crops, a girl with bright pink hair. Bright, _pink_ hair. Jesus.

The girl looked up and waved at us. "Morning, Jack!" she said cheerily. Oh dear gods above, could it get any worse?

"Good morning, Nina!" Jack waved back.

She walked over to us, and leaned on the fence. "Hello!" she said. "Are you Jack's cousin, here to help him?"

"Uh, yeah," I was taken aback by the pure insanity that was this pink abomination. I stretched out my hand. "Call me Benson."

She shook it and giggled. "The Mayor was right, you are handsome."

Oh _crap_. "Uh," I shot a glance at Jack.

Jack stepped in. "I don't think he's met the mayor yet. Have you Benson?"

"There was a midget in a top hat."

"Yup!" said Nina. "That's the Mayor! Mayor Theodore."

"Oh," I said. "Sure."

Nina smiled. "How's the farming going, Jack?"

"Oh, uh…" Jack blushed. "Funny story, not so good. We're here to get more."

"Anything you're looking for?"

This time Jack looked at me. "Something basic," I said. "Just to start us off this season."

Nina nodded. "We have the seeds you could ever want, just go on in and talk to Liz. I have to get back to the field, so, have a nice day!"

She walked back to the field. Jesus H. Christ. What a trip of a girl.

We moved into the main farm house. The room was clean, with flowers decorating it, and shelves lining the walls with seeds and various fruits and vegetables. Towards the fall wall was a counter, which a pink-haired woman was standing. She couldn't be any more than five years older than me and Jack at the least. She wore flowers in her hair, and was humming some happy tune. Good god, what was up with this family?

"Morning, Liz!" said Jack.

"Morning!" Liz chirped. "Back for more seeds?"

"Yup, yup," said Jack.

"Anything particular you want?"

Jack opened his mouth, but I spoke first. "What seeds do you have for spring?"

"Oh! Sorry, didn't you there, said Liz. "You must be Jack's cousin."

"Yeah, name's Benson," I said, forcing a smile.

"Welcome to the village!"

I nodded. God this town was scary. Who the hell was this cheerful? And who the hell had pink hair of all things?

"Now about those seeds…"

We walked back ten minutes later with a plastic bag full of cloth pouches, which themselves were full of seeds. We had enough to give us a good start, and probably last the rest of the season.

Man, this town was weird. The people were cheery, a midget ran the place, and there were women with pink hair. This backwoods was strange as hell, and I wasn't looking forward to meeting the rest. We managed to get back to the farm without running into anymore human oddities, and stored the seeds on the shelves until tomorrow morning. No point in getting started today. Jack still needed to be taught how to use most of the basic tools. What a day tomorrow was going to be.


	3. First Day

Chapter Three: The First Day

The next morning Jack and I stood in the crop field. A pile of tools were spread out on the ground next to us. They weren't the best around, but they were useable, and in a decent condition. It was good enough for me. All of them were made of bronze, and looked like they were new when I was in diapers. But, everything we needed was here; a hoe, a watering can, the seeds, and a hammer.

I looked up at a cloudless blue sky and a warm breeze blew in my face. It was a nice spring day; a perfect day to teach Jack the basis of farming.

I picked up the hoe, a tool with a long wooden handle and a flat bronze blade. I held it in front of Jack's face. "Hoe," I said. "This is a hoe. You use it to till the ground so we can plant the seeds.

Jack nodded affirmatively.

"Okay, watch what I do." I slammed the blade of the hoe into the ground, and dragged it out, unearthing the brown, earthy soil underneath. I repeated the action several times until I had made myself a nice brown square plot.

"Now, you try," I handed the hoe over to him. "Do the same thing next to my spot."

Jack immediately started whacking at the ground. He would have been doing fine, if the blade wasn't point up. "Jack," I groaned. "Use the pointy end."

He looked up and blinked. "Oh… right."

I chuckled. What a silly bastard.

After about ten minutes Jack had finished making his spot. It wasn't nearly as neat as mine, or even in the shape of a square, but it was a good start. From that point on, we both took turns tilling the land until after an hour or so we had managed to create two rows of properly tilled land. They stretched the entire length of the property. We would have made a third row, but the trees and rocks strewn along the river portion of the land made it difficult.

It was now time to plant. I grabbed the seeds. "Alright Jack, without actually using seeds, show me how you planted them last time."

"Without seeds?" Jack asked, unsure.

"Yeah, without," I stated again. "Just, uh, do what you did in mime or whatever."

"Okay," said Jack. He moved to the center of the two rows, and pretended to throw a bunch of seeds over his head. "Just like that."

I shook my head. "No Jack, just no. That's a waste of seeds right out. Do as I do."

Sometime later, we had planted half the rows with potatoes and the other half with turnips. It was enough for Jack to learn on, screw up, and for us to still make some form of profit. I picked up the watering can. It was a small, bronze thing which looked like it could barely hold any amount of water at all. I tossed it Jack. "Go fill 'er up, we get to water all of the seeds next."

Jack grumbled. Farming apparently was a lot harder and more work than he had been expecting.

Watering took us the better part of the rest of the morning. Jack didn't know a damn thing about farming. He wasn't even aware of the basic stereotypical knowledge a person picked up from the video game simulations and National Geographic specials. His first attempt at watering the seeds was drowning them in an amount of water the earth hadn't seen since Noah's flood. It was only through my interventionist efforts that the seeds were saved, and Jack was taught moderation. That boy was an uphill battle all the way.

We sat down on the grass next to the rows, dead tired. We had been working all morning; I had been up since at least six o' clock. The sun was high above our heads. I guessed it to be around noon or so. The growling of our stomachs also motivated me to make the lunchtime guess.

Before we could satisfy our growing desire for some grub, a very tall, muscular man with black, buzz-cut hair stepped in front of us. He sported an impressive five o'clock shadow, and had to be at least five years older than us. He wore a white wife beater, blue jeans, and sported a heart tattoo with the word MOM across in big capitals. Apparently, my first impression told me, this town had white trash too.

"Howdy there boys," the man said in a slight country accent. "How goes the farm?"

"Fine," I answered. "Who the hell are you?"

"Bob Black, yer shipper," the man answered, putting his hands on his hips, as if he were proud of that fact. "Whatever you put in the shipping box, I come and get it in the mornings, and take it to the nearest town to sell. I pay you whatever I sell, and take a small slice as my fee for my wonderful services."

"Works out very well for you, I suppose," I replied. "We don't really have a choice, do we?"

"Not really," Bob grinned. "I'm the only shipper in these parts."

"Heh," I chuckled. He acted the same way I would have if I was him. "Guess we're in business then. My name's Benson." I offered my hand.

Bob took it. "Nice to meet ya Benson."

I jabbed my thumb over at Jack. "Haven't you already met him, if you're the shipper?" I asked. "He's been here almost two weeks now."

"Er, yeah, yeah, but since it looks like you'll be a big help around the farm, I wanted to introduce myself to you personally."

I smiled. "I'm sure I will Bob."

He nodded. "See you boys later."

He walked to the road and turned left in the direction of Blue Sky Ranch.

"Seems like a nice guy," I commented. "If a little bit redneck. I like the way he tried to beat around the bush of you sucking at farming."

"Oh, shut up," Jack mumbled.

I patted Jack on the back. "C'mon, let's go get lunch."

Lunch consisted of sandwiches made from whatever I could find living in the fridge. Jack had told me the mayor had given him some food products to fill it with, some lunch meat, milk, cheese, among other things. I wasn't entirely sure if the lunch meat was even meat, it looked a bit like ham and tasted a bit like ham, but in the back of mind there was klaxon going off that it was probably from the more private parts of the pig.

The farmhouse Jack and I sat on the fence right outside the house overlooking the road, looking at the river and tree line of the opposite shore. We had ham and cheese sandwiches, made by myself. I had quickly learned the previous night that Jack had no cooking skills. I only learned this through the sacrifice of one of my good plaid shirts. He would be missed.

"Gotta hand it to you Jack," I said after swallowing a particular large bite of ham and cheese. "We may be in the middle of nowhere, but it sure is a pretty side of nowhere."

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's a beautiful town."

We ate in silence for a few more minutes. Then Jack asked a question.

"Hey Benson, do you… believe in spirits?"

"Spirits?" I stopped myself from taking a bite to repeat him. "What kind?"

"Like harvest sprites or something."

"Harvest sprites," I said skeptically.

"Right."

"I'm not following, Jack."

"Well, see, the first day I was here, these three little guys came up to me, calling themselves harvest sprites," Jack explained. "They led me to this spring up in the mountains, and wanted me to collect these magical notes to save the harvest goddess."

I stared at him for a few minutes dumbfounded. Jesus, Jack may have been good-natured, but he couldn't sense a large pile of BS if the bull shot out some right in front of his nose. "Jack, no, just no," I said assertively. "Harvest goddess? Notes? Just a dream dude, nothing but a dream. Don't go telling the entire town before they think your nuts and have to be committed."

"But it wasn't a dream," Jack whined.

"Jack, let me put it this way, continue talking about this crazy babble and _I'll_ commit you."

He never said a word about harvest sprites or magical notes ever again.

After lunch, we found ourselves with nothing to do. I suggested going up into the mountains, and see what the fat of the land was like. Jack wanted to introduce me to some of the locals instead. I agreed to it, so long as none were like Nina, who gave me the creeps.

Our first stop was to our neighbors across the road at Blue Sky Ranch. This was the place, Jack explained, where we would be able to buy animals and stuff. The owner was Hank, who seemed like a nice guy, but was off-kilter most of the time. It probably had something to do with the fact that the man had the smell of cheap alcohol on his breath. To top it off, he was dressed in a cowboy outfit, though I don't think he did any of the ranch work himself.

Hank had a nephew and daughter living with him. The nephew, nicknamed Blue, was out doing ranch work. The daughter on the other hand came out to greet us. Her name was Ellen. She was a short brown-haired little thing, in a pleated skirt and an apron. She was alright, but a bit overly nice to the point of psychosis, a point Jack often failed to grasp in some people. Ellen also brought up the mayor's "handsome" comment. Christ, why were all the crazy broads always in to me?

The people there may have been dysfunctional human oddities, but they deserved credit for at least being helpful oddities. In order to raise animals, we'd need to construct a barn, and according to the measurements given by Hank, and corrected by Ellen, we'd need a much bigger plot of land to even accommodate the smallest barn. There just wasn't enough room on the property to have both animals and crops. So, Jack and I took a detour. We headed down south towards the shoreline and Spring Farm. To the carpenter, Jack had said, who also sold property on the side.

We arrived outside the large log cabin twenty minutes later. It was, unfortunately, across the street from the lair of the pink-haired weirdoes over at Spring Farm. We went inside and found our inside a spacious workshop. The majority of this space was to the left of us as we entered, itself filled with all sorts of woodworking tools and machines which would surely cause a massacre if I ever used them. To the right of us were beds and wardrobes and tables and chairs, all sorts of furniture on display and laid up against the wall. The floor and walls were surprisingly made of concrete. The log cabin exterior apparently was a façade. There was a single desk over by the far wall, and next to it was a brown oak door.

An old man came and greeted us as we entered."Jack!" he said with a slight southern drawl. "So you decided to finally bring around the farming cousin, eh? My name's James Sawyer, but everyone calls me Woody."

He shook my hand. "Nice to meet you, Woody," I said politely.

He grinned, showing two rows of yellow, crooked teeth. Woody looked old, and I guessed his age anywhere from fifty to eighty. His white hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he had thick eyebrows and a bushy beard. He wore a maroon and white shirt that looked like it had been sawed in half and crudely sewn back together. Woody wore a dark brown satchel around his neck, and a tool satchel hung from his belt and jeans.

"I'm the master carpenter around these parts," said Woody. "Anythin' you need help with, come to me."

Woody turned his around to look at two young men standing by the woodworking tools. "Those two are my apprentices. Boys! Come here!" he barked at them.

The two stepped forward. They both looked to be my age. The first one stood taller and appeared more confident than the second one. He had an award-winning smile, and gave me a strong handshake. He had long brown hair capped under a starry bandanna. He wore a striped shirt with a tan vest and brown cargo pants. He wore the same kind of satchel that Woody wore.

He introduced himself as Joe. "Pleased to meetcha!" he said cheerily. "Nice to see a new custo- er, I mean farmer around."

I chuckled at his failure of a joke. "Careful, I might decide to outsource."

"Probably, but it might help if we weren't miles from the nearest town."

"It would."

The second young man was the shorter, and probably the younger of the two. He was clearly Joe's brother; you could see the resemblance in their faces. They had the same brown eyes, same straight-slanted nose, and the same thin lips. Instead of being cheery like his brother, he sulked around instead. He wore a military cameo headband and matching cargo pants. The rest of him was dressed in a black shirt and tanned leather vest. He wore the same tool bag Woody and Joe did. His name was Kurt, and he didn't talk nearly as much as his brother did. He gave me a weak handshake, and barely made eye contact at all.

"You need anythin' repaired or built, you come to me," said Woody. "I also sell some land fer the town. I don't own any of it meself, I just act as the town's proxy."

I nodded. "Sounds good."

Woody nodded, said a brief goodbye, and wandered away. Joe tried to strum up a conversation. "So… like fishing?"

I shrugged. "Dunno, never been fishing before."

"Oh, we should totally go fishing sometime," said Joe. "It's what I do during my free hours."

Joe and I then got into a lengthy conversation which eventually migrated into a variety of topics. Joe was an alright guy. Smart, funny, he goofed around a bit too much, but I liked him already. He was a vast improvement over Spring Farm. Our conversation ended when Woody howled at him to get back to work, and Jack and I left.

When we exited, Jack and I found that the sky had turned a pleasant shade of orange, and the sun had begun setting. Jack came up with a suggestion once again, that we go the beach, and enjoy the scenery. I agreed. The town was full of gossiping midgets, deranged women, and the oddest batch of genetics I had ever seen, but damn, it was a beautiful place.

The beach was a beautiful natural beach, something that could only have been made by the earth itself. It was a mile of sandy shore that stretched along the town's coast. We laid on our backs, propped up by our elbows and watched the great flaming of the sky slowly fade away into purple twilight. I lit up a cigarette and enjoyed the view.

After a few minutes Jack asked a question. "Benson, why'd you decide to come here?"

"Huh?" I lowered my head from gazing at the sky above and looked at him. "What'd you mean?"

"I mean, why did you answer my letter and come here?" asked Jack. "I honestly didn't think you'd come."

"Then why'd you ask me?"

"I was desperate."

"Oh, well," I puffed on my cigarette and shrugged. "I lost my job back in the city, and it was probably the last I'll get for awhile. Turns out most newspapers don't like hedonistic journalists."

"Why not get back into creative writing?"

I shook my ahead. "You can't make a good living that way, and I'm no Hemingway."

I thought about the question for a few minutes before speaking again. "To seriously answer, I guess… I dunno. Maybe I wanted a change of pace or something. You remember how I used to work on my granddaddy's farm up in Mineral Town during the summers in high school?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I kind of liked it. It was a nice town, the work was refreshing, and I was good at it. I probably would have gone back for the rest of my life if writing didn't win out. Not to mention college was too much fun."

Jack frowned. "You only went to community college."

I gave him a grin. "Yeah, but I still had the full lifestyle, heh."

Jack smiled, and didn't say anything for a few moments. He looked directly at my cigarette. "You shouldn't smoke those things you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Jack, don't get all preachy on me. You fully well know I can stop any time I want."

"So stop," he said simply. "That thing will kill you."

"I just like it too damn much." I blew smoke in his face to taunt him.

Jack coughed and whacked me on the back of the head. What a cheeky bastard. It was my bloody life, why should he worry about it? We sat in silence for awhile. The sun was going lower and lower into the sky, and the stars were starting to pierce the horizon. The world around us slowly got darker and darker. Before the sun could completely drop from sight, a curious figure appeared from the tree line down the shore. Whoever it was was so far away I couldn't make out who they were. The person's head turned and saw us. He or she started walking towards us.

As they get closer, I could make out some features. At first glance I thought it was Nina, as the hair was just as wild and the clothing crazy, but it wasn't. Instead of pink hair, they had purple hair, grown to an androgynous length. The fashion was totally insane; a multi-colored poncho that used so many purple and reddish colors that it was murder on the eyes. Whoever it was also wore a cowboy hat perched sideways on the head. What punk wore something like that like a goddamned rapper?

The person stood above the side of Jack just as the sun dipped wholly over the horizon. Even up close in person, I couldn't tell if it was a dude or a chick.

"You should just give up now," the person said. "Even with this burned-out shmuck to help you, you'll never rescue her or save the town."

"Sure Jaime, sure," Jack said nonchalantly. I got the feeling this wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation.

Jaime stalked away back towards the treeline.

"Jesus H. _Christ_, that was beyond creepy," I said as I got up from the sand. "Puts Nina out of the position of top crazy by a mile."

"Yup, that's Jaime, she's our biggest rival in town. The output of her farm is enourmous."

"That's Jaime?!" I said incredously. "We're getting beat out by a tranny? Hell no! I'll beat that little prick if it's the last thing I do."

Jack got up and brushed the sand off him. "Thanks Jack."

"Anytime," I said as we started walking back home. I flicked my cigarette away. "Christ, who knew this side of nowhere would have a tranny right in the middle of it?"

"Benson, I'm pretty sure she's a girl."

I snorted. "Pah, I couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl. We'll naturally assume hermaphrodite."

Jack laughed at my brashness and we returned home for the night.


	4. Doctor's Visit

Chapter Four: Doctor's Visit

The next day Jack and I got up early to tend to the crops. There wasn't much left to do but water the seeds. Still I had him weed the entire field, for practice and because it was an entertaining thing to watch. While he toiled in the fields I inspected the two large oak trees along the river. They would have to come down, no bones about it. I went inside to grab the axe and took a few test swings on one of the trees.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! I barely scratched it. The bronze metal of the axe wasn't strong enough to chop down whole trees. I looked around, and saw a stump just across the river. I crossed the bridge, went over to it and gave it a few good whacks. There was some damage to it, but not much. Crap, I'd have to use up all my energy just getting the stump down, never mind the damn trees. I went over to Jack.

"Is there a blacksmith or tool shop in town?" I asked. "We need a stronger axe."

"Um," Jack said, thinking the question over. "There's a junk shop in town, they sell some tools."

I nodded, and the leaned the axe up against the wall of the farmhouse. "Right, I'll walk into town and check 'em out."

"Uh, while you're there," Jack removed a piece of folded paper from his back pocket. "This came for you today. It was in the mailbox."

I swiped the letter from Jack and skimmed it over. It was in a neat, typed font. The heading in the top left read: FLOWER BUD VILLAGE CLINIC. The main portion of the letter was in some formal, stuffy language and simply read that the local sawbones, Doctor Alexander Krenshaw, wanted to see me for some medical crap. It looked like the usual doctor stuff, medical history; turn your head and cough, etc.

"The doctor's a nice guy," said Jack. "Only a few years older than us. He's here 'cause he needs to pay back his med school loans or something."

"I'm surprised this town even _has_ a doc."

"Yeah, there's some legal technicality or something between him and the government."

"Well, whatever, I'll go down and see the doc if I have to," I jammed the letter in my own back pocket and started walking. "Keep weeding, and I'll see you later."

"Later Benson."

I walked along the road that I first used to get to Jack's farm on the first day. I think it was named Riverside or something silly like that. I passed by Blue Sky Farm and saw animals in the fields. They had cows, sheep even a few chickens scurrying around. In the field, there was a young man working. The guy looked fresh out of high school. Man, imagine that rap, getting stuck out here as a young adult straight outta public school. I, at least had a few good times before getting burned out.

I took out from my front pocket a crudely drawn map Jack had made me the first night I spent here. It was comprised of red marker and sharp, thick lines with lots of awkward angles. According to it, the tool shop was just across from the square, near where I had my run-in with the mayor. I turned right on the road and walked down what I assume amounted to a short of main street for the village. There were a lot more buildings clustered here; shops and homes. I couldn't tell the shops from the homes, as all the buildings were made in the same style. The town had a thing for stone bricks and wooden cottages. I guessed that the shops were the ones with the little signs in front of them, but most of them were too small and faraway for me to read.

I came to the tool shop a few more minutes later, but instead of stopping inside, veered left and walked into the town square. It was completely empty. I sat down on one of the tall flowers beds that walled in the square and lit up a cigarette. I was quickly running out of them. I hadn't expected this dump to be so far from normal civilization. Even the smallest towns had enough brain cells to sell booze and tobacco, and here I was in a town that sold neither! What was even more disappointing was that this town had no public watering hole, no pub or bar or some public gathering place to go at night. Christ, you'd think I'd landed myself in the middle of a Puritan village.

I thought about what Jack said the previous night on the beach. Preachy little prick, what the hell did he know? I could quit smoking anytime I wanted to, I just enjoyed smoking and drinking my way through life. It wasn't any business of his what I injected, ate or smoked into my body. I sighed. I knew Jack, and he wasn't going to give up on me quitting. Oh well, it's not like I didn't know how to ignore him. I spent the better part of my teenage years doing just that.

I sat there smoking for about ten more minutes. It was about mid-morning. I estimated it to be around ten-thirty or so. The day was pretty decent. There were some clouds in the sky, and a stray breeze now and again, but it wasn't so bad. Rain was bound to fall any day now. Jack had told me it hadn't rained since he'd arrived, and that was nearly two weeks ago now.

I finished my cigarette and dropped it on the ground. I smashed the heel of my shoe into it, extinguishing the heat. Just then, Bob came lumbering around the corner into the square. He saw me, and walked to where I was sitting.

"Mornin', Benson!" He said cheerfully.

"Morning, Bob," I replied. "What're you up to today?"

"Business for the mayor," Bob answered. "Gotta change the community board that announces the events."

"Oh really? What's coming up?"

"Spring Horse Race."

"Horse race? Sounds groovy," I said. "Can we gamble on the races?"

"Yup, it's my favorite part."

I chuckled. "Sounds good. Hey, Bob, this town where you bring all our farm products to, does it have a drugstore or something?"

"Yeah, why?"

"If I give you the money, will pick me up some cigarettes?"

"Sure, how much you want?"

"Enough to last me a couple weeks," I said. I pulled out the necessary bills from my pockets and forked it over to Bob. "That should be enough giving the average rate they go for these days. Keep the change."

Bob pocketed it. "I go tomorrow; you'll have 'em in two days."

"Excellent, thanks man, oh and one more thing. Not a word about this to Jack, he gets a little nosy sometimes, you dig?"

"I understand," Bob nodded. "Listen, I gotta go do what I came here to do, I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Have a good one, Bob"

"You too, Benson."

We went our separate ways. He went over to the board in the corner, and I walked out of the square and into the tool shop. The layout was similar to every other shop I had been in. Front counter by the back wall with all sorts of stuff laid out on the shop floor. Jack wasn't kidding when he said it was a junk shop, the stuff they had for sale was crap you could have found in a garbage heap. Behind the counter was a man with dark blue hair. He wore a very professional-looking, tan button-down shirt, with what I assumed to be the shop logo emblazoned on the breast.

"Morning," the man said softly. His voice was very quiet. "I've never seen you around here before. Are you new in town?"

"Moved in a couple days ago," I replied, shoving my hands in my pockets. "I work over at Kingsford Farm. Name's Benson."

"Oh yes," the man said. "I remember the mayor talking about you. I'm Michael, and this is my shop. Anything I can help you with?"

"Uh, yeah, I need a stronger axe."

"We have bronze," Mike suggested.

"I need something stronger than that," I explained. "I got trees on my property that need to come down."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Michael bowed a little bit. "I don't think we have anything but bronze ones. Let me check with my daughter. Ann!" He called.

A young woman emerged from the backroom. Good god, was there anyone over the age of thirty-five here who _didn't_ have some pretty daughter living with them? She was a pretty girl, I gave her that. She had fiery red hair drawn into a ponytail, and bright blue eyes. She wore an opened brown jacket with the sleeves rolled up, white shirt and shorts.

"Yeah Dad?" She said.

"Do we have anymore axes besides bronze?" Michael said.

"Nope, all we got is good 'ol bronze," the girl said crassly. She looked at me. "If you need a tree chopped down or something I could invent something right quick."

My god, the girl spoke like a crusty old sailor. I suspected the only reason she wasn't swearing inbetween breaths was because of her father's presence.

Michael went pale at the mention of invention. "No…. no, Ann, Mr. Benson wants an axe. You don't need to invent anything."

_Mister_ Benson? Michael must've been at twice my age and here he was calling me mister! This guy was way too nice for his own good.

"Oh, okay," Ann turned on her heels, and went to the backrooms without saying a word.

"I'm sorry," Mike said again, bowing even lower this time. "She's a bit of a tomboy, and has a tendency to be a bit… crude."

I brushed it off, and waved my hand a little. "Don't worry about it, it's nothing important."

"I'm afraid we do have nothing but bronze axes, we only have bronze to work with at the moment. If something else was brought up from the mines and shipped we'd have something else in stock, but…" his voice trailed off.

"No worries," I said. "Gimme a holler if something does turn up, okay? See you around, Mike."

"Goodbye, Mr. Benson," Michael said quietly.

I left the tool shop and walked up the road towards the clinic. It was a very modern building, in comparison to the rest of the village. It was made of white concrete bricks, and made in a fat L-shape. The roof was flat, and there was a small pipe and a pointed cover with smoke coming out of it. It was probably from a radiator or something.

I entered through a set of clean, glass double doors. They had white lettering on the side that read "CLINIC HOURS: 8:00AM TO 6:00PM, DOCTOR ALWAYS ON CALL." The lobby was a clean room, if I didn't know I was in the middle of nowhere, it could've passed for any clinic waiting room back in the city. It had plush chairs, a coffee table piled with a variety of magazines which I would never bother to read, and a receptionist's desk. There was a door on the left side, made of wood. There was no glass pane in it, so I assumed it must be a private room. On the north end there was an open door that led to a hallway with a glass pane in it. The only thing missing was a receptionist.

"Hey Doc, you in?" I called down the hallway.

There was a brief shuffling sound before a voice answered. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be with you in a second. "

A few minutes later Dr. Alex Krenshaw walked out of the hallway carrying a folder. He was around my height, with unkempt black hair and dark eyes. The doc wore a white doctor's coat, grey slacks, dress shoes, an olive green dress shirt, and black tie. He looked very professional. Judging by his appearance I guessed he was either a bachelor, workaholic or both.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm afraid I'm the only one working here at the moment. I've got no one to help me at the moment, and won't get anyone for a few more weeks. Oh I'm sorry again, where are my manners? I'm Dr. Alex Krenshaw, you can call me Doctor or Alex or Doctor Krenshaw or-"

"Doc's fine by me," I said.

He looked a little flustered and annoyed. "Right, well, I called you down here because if you're going to live here and be my patient, I'm going to need some information from you. Just medical history, it's rather basic stuff."

"Heh, I kind of figured that out."

"Right, well, I've got all the paper work right here," Alex hopped on the counter, took some papers out of the folder and clamped them to a nearby clipboard. "So, let's get started. Name?"

"Benson."

"Great," said Alex, scribbling away on the paper with a pen. "First name?"

I crossed my arms and grunted.

Alex looked up from his papers and frowned. "Look, Benson, I'm going to need your first name. Now, once again, first name?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Benjamin."

Alex went back to staring at the paper he was writing on and nodded. "Middle name?"

"William."

"Birthday?"

"Summer 17."

"Age?"

"Twenty-four."

"Height?"

"Six-two."

"Weight?"

"One hundred forty-five pounds."

"Okay, now on to family medical history," the doc announced. "How about your father's side? Any history of worrisome diseases there?"

"My gramps had arthritis in his old age and some heart disease. Dunno about my father or any of his siblings." I said the last statement rather standoffishly.

"Okay, generally healthy, your grandfather?"

"As far as I know."

Alex continued to scribble away for a few more moments before sighing and putting down his work. His gaze met mine and I found myself staring into a pair of dark eyes glaring at me. "Look, Benson, I can tell you're going to be difficult. I don't know if its because you're a misanthrope, or if it's something I said. Look, If I'm going to be your doctor, we need to get along, especially since I'm apparently the only qualified doctor this dump has seen in decades. Hey, I only got here myself two seasons ago, so let's try to get along. Let's start over. Hi, I'm Doctor Alexander Bell Krenshaw, and I'll be your physician for your time here."

He stretched out his hand. I gave a little chuckle. This guy was a bit of a hoot, with all the authority of a parent and the bluntness of a knife to the back. I shook his hand.

I couldn't help myself; I smirked at the thought of his name. "Alexander Bell?"

He averted his eyes and muttered. "Yeah… well you know… parents."

I chuckled a little bit. Yeah, I knew a bit about parents.

"Anyway," Alex glossed over the subject and decided to continue with his doctoral duties. "Anyway, I can pull you're mother's history from Jack's own medical history on that side. Should be similar. Moving on… let's see, I know your current living arrangements, current job, what about before coming here? What did you do then?"

"Freelance writing, some journalism," I answered stiffly.

"Fun, fun," Alex said dismissively. "Living quarters alright back there too?"

"Yeah they were alright. It wasn't a hovel, but it wasn't the Ritz either."

Alex nodded. "Any drugs or alcohol?"

I grinned. "Whole lotta booze and cigarettes."

"Cigarettes?" Alex looked up at me again. "You still smoke?"

"Yup?"

"You really shouldn't," Alex said, he almost seemed to be lecturing me. "especially on such a physical job. Those things will kill you."

"Yeah, yeah, let me worry about that," I said grumpily. "It ain't my first time farming."

"Yeah I know, Jack told me about your summers on your grandfather's farm in…" Alex flipped through his papers. "Mineral Town, was it? That was almost six years ago, and if you keep smoking while doing it now you're bound to run in with some complications."

"Yeah, Yeah," I mumbled. Preachy bastard, almost like Jack.

Alex took the hint and sighed. He moved on. "Allergies?"

"None."

"Good. Any meds, pills, cough syrup, etc?"

"Nope."

"Lovely. Last question, Benson: How's your sex life?"

"Grand," I could almost feel the egotism and pride oozing out of my mouth.

Alex gave a sly grin. "Heterosexual, I presume. Any STDs?"

"Nope."

The doctor scrawled for a few more moments. "Well, if you're lying to me on that front, I'm sure you'll come running back to me for treatment. Anyway, that finishes us up for today. I should give you a physical, but you probably should get back to the farm. Jack's a horrible farmer, or so I hear."

"Does everyone in town know? He's really that bad, eh?" I said playfully.

"Blame the mayor," Alex replied grimly. "That man is such a gossip! He's in and out of here every day spreading rumors. It's the same all across town and it probably won't be long before he comes to visit you and fill you in on a daily basis. Oh well, nothing I can do except stop paying attention to the old fart. Anyway, come in a day or two, and I'll give you a physical. Until then, see you later Benson."

We shook hands once more and he walked back to the hallway. I started the walk back home. I grimaced at the thought of having a physical. The entire business of the turning and coughing and standing in front of some doctor in nothing but my skivvies gave my goose bumps. I sighed as I exited the clinic, and started up the road back to the farm.


	5. Gone Fishin'

Chapter Five: Gone Fishin'

I was having a pleasant dream. It involved a pair of Russian twins, a bottle of vodka, and a 1980s soundtrack. I was just reaching the thrilling climax when something in reality jolted my brain awake. My eyes flew open and then quickly shut. Sun was streaming through the windows, lighting up the room like a birthday cake. There was a very pleasant morning solitude in the air. I rolled my head to look over at Jack's bed. It was empty. I rubbed my eyes. Where the hell was he?

I got out of bed and stretched. I moved closer to the clock on the wall. The time read 8:30, and according to the calendar below it, it was Spring 16. I grumbled as I made my way over to the fridge. I reached for an apple and looked around the fridge. It was getting pretty bare; we'd have to restock it somehow. Spring Farm sold some of its produce; we could probably get more food from there.

Before I could wander outside to find Jack and curse him out, I realized I was dressed only in my underwear. I quickly dressed in jeans and a blue plaid shirt before strolling outside. I found Jack in the fields watering the turnips sprouting from the ground.

"Jack, you ass," I said, obviously annoyed. "What gives? You didn't wake me this morning."

"I thought you could use a day off," replied Jack cheerfully. "You've been working so hard since you got here four days ago; I thought you might deserve a day off."

I crossed my arms and frowned. "Jack, you're not ready to go at farming all alone."

"Yes I can!" Jack shoved his face into mine. "I've already weeded everything and watered the potatoes and only have to water the rest of the turnips."

Whoa, it looked like Jack's balls finally dropped. I took two steps back and took a bite out of my forgotten apple. The two rows of plants stretched on behind Jack. I had to admit, they were already free of weeds and it look like the potatoes were pretty well watered. Damn, the kid impressed me. I hoped this wasn't a daily habit, otherwise I could be unemployed again.

"Well," I said half-teasingly. "I guess things are alright here."

"Right!" Jack almost shouted. He was really making a stand.

"Okay, I guess I got myself a day off here," I bit off more of my apple.

"Why don't you go fishing?" Jack suggested.

"Fishing, huh?" I said after swallowing. "Yeah, sure why not?"

"There's a lake not far from town, just go past the carpenter's cabin."

"Man, Jack, you thought of everything didn't you? Is there a packed lunch of me somewhere too?"

"It's on the top shelf of the fridge if you noticed it this morning," Jack smiled. "Joe has an old radio he says he'll let you use, just swing by Woody's on your way there."

"Okay, okay, Jesus, I'm going," I said, as I finished my apple. "Just let me go freshen up and I'll be out of your hair."

The lake was half a mile away from the outskirts of the village and one mile away from the sea. It was an uneven blob in the middle of a lightly wooded area. The lake's shore had no sand at all, instead the dirt and grass dropped rapidly off the side into the water. A sandy path ran out of the heavy woods to the east and ran north towards a slope.

I settled myself beside a tree, only a few feet from the path and even fewer feet from the water. I spread out a blanket, and dropped the things I had brought. I had brought several things for my day off, lunch made by Jack inside an old tin lunchbox, the fishing rod and a stereo borrowed from Joe. I sat down and leaned against a tree, cast the rod out onto the lake and began relaxing.

I had to admit after a few minutes, Joe had been right; fishing wasn't half bad at all. There was something incredibly relaxing and cathartic about the sport. All by myself, with just my thoughts and the eternal solitude of the forest for company. I damned the eternal solitude part and turned on the radio to some classic rock station.

I sat there all morning and didn't catch a single fish. That fact didn't bother me in the least. I was content just to sit there and enjoy the day. There was no Jack to pester me with stupid questions, no Nina or Ellen to "coincidentally" walk by the fields anytime I happened to be out there working. There wasn't any mayor to come and bother me to pieces with the latest gossip claptrap he had to offer. Jesus H. Christ, I had assumed the Doc was joking two days ago when he said the mayor would start coming around. I sighed; I had none of that today. I just hooked my fishing rod in-between two roots so it wouldn't go anywhere and let myself be taken away by 1970s rock and roll.

I let my thoughts drift to my new life in this town. Some of the people were crazy, like Nina and Ellen who insisted being the nice side of psychotic. Christ, not only were they too nice for decent human society, they also had to try and flirt with me. It sent shivers down my spine and brought up another concern. All the women in the town were crazy, where the hell was I supposed to find actual humane girls? If the rest of the women in town ended up being like Nina and Ellen, I shuddered to think of what might happen.

The town wasn't a complete wash. Joe was a bit too cheery, but it was the kind of cheery that just infected you. His good moods just washed over you like a warm rain and you just had to feel good too. He joked around a little bit too much, but was an overall alright guy. The doctor, that Alex guy, he seemed pretty alright too. Except it was much more entertaining to watch his doctoral neuritis get in the way of his life. That man had the bedside manner of the robot maid from the Jetsons. I grimaced at the thought of having to go back to the clinic for a physical. Having another man touch my private parts was not my favorite thing in the world.

I sat there for what I guessed must have been hours, just circling my thoughts around. I think I even dozed off once or twice. Whatever actually happened, it was incredibly relaxing, and washed away any stress built up from my life. I began to hunger for lunch eventually, and guesstimated it must have been around noon. As far as I was concerned, lunchtime started when I started getting hungry.

Before I could peruse dreams of whatever Jack had made for me, someone started whistling. It was definitely another human being, as I was pretty sure birds didn't know the tune of "Ashes to Ashes." I leaned forward and looked around. I couldn't see anyone, and I silently prayed to myself that it wasn't some pink-haired harpy.

A young man emerged into my sight, dressed entirely in blue and carrying a fishing rod. He had long brown hair tied in a ponytail, blue eyes and a prominent chin. He seemed surprised to see me.

"Oh great, _another_ fisherman," he said, sounding _oh_ so pleased. "I suppose you're here to strip fish the entire lake too?"

"No," I replied shaking my head and shrugging. "Just enjoying my day off. I didn't realize the lake had someone else's name on it."

"Oh… sorry," the man looked down and kicked a nearby pebble. "I'm not much of a people person; I don't like strangers too much."

"I can't blame you," I said. "Some of the people in this town are off their rockers. They try to fleece the lake or something?"

"No, not really," admitted the man. "I just kind of… overreact. Catch anything?"

"Not a thing."

"Oh. Mind if I give you some help, then?" He seemed to be trying to make up for his cynicism.

"Go ahead.

He sat down next to me and introduced himself. "My name's Ray, Ray Thomas."

"My name's Benson. I moved to Kingsford Farm a few days back. Good to meet you Ray."

Ray paused for a few moments before speaking again, as if he was afraid of being honest and 'offending' me again. "You know, it might help if you actually hold the rod."

I looked at him, then the rod, then him again. "I suppose it would."

I yanked the rod from its natural holder and grasped it my hands. There still was no bite.

"You, uh, a fisherman or something?" I asked.

"Yeah, something like that," Ray answered. "Try recasting your line out a little farther than two inches from the shore."

Chuckling, I quickly reeled in the line as far it would go. The rod had a slight dip to it as I held it behind me. I gave the line I good throw and it landed with a soft _ker-plunk _a good distance away from the shore. Almost immediately there was nibble. I staggered to my feet and began reeling it in.

"Higher, _higher_!" instructed Ray. "Keep holding it tight, watch your back."

The fish was a strong little pest; it nearly tore the damn rod straight from my hands. I took Ray's advice and kept on reeling it in, pulling higher on the rod. After what was probably thirty seconds of a seemingly intense battle of strength, the fish gave up and it was flung out of the water. My opponent was actually a small, pathetic, green, little thing who was only a few inches long.

"Not bad for your first catch," complemented Ray. "Looks to be maybe three or so inches."

"Nasty little prick," I said, unhooking him from the rod. "For such a small little dude, he put up a helluva fight."

Ray chuckled. "Yeah, well, wait until you move onto the bigger ones. Hey, you said you work Kingsford Farm, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You're probably hurting for money with nothin' to ship off yet," said Ray. "You should try going up north towards the mountains and wilderness outside town. Some good stuff grows out there."

I rubbed my chin. "What kind of stuff? Anything worth my time?"

"Oh, lots," Ray nodded. "Herbs, which every medical nut within a hundred miles go crazy for. There's some flowers and honey out there too. Fill up a sack with all that junk and you'll have a nice little profit for little work."

"Sounds good," I commented. "And this crap is just on the ground?"

"Only a few people, me included, even bother going up that way," Ray answered. "And out of those I'm the only one who does it. The rest are all fanatical about not disturbing nature. So long as you don't strip everything bare, everything will be fine."

"Me and Jack could use some income for once," I said, putting the fish away for storage. "God knows that boy can't farm."

Ray grinned. "Yeah I've heard those rumors too. Better get started soon, I can't stand the way that Jaime person brags about how she's the only one doing anything to help the town."

"Yeah, I can't stand the tranny either."

Ray laughed. "Tranny! Perfect word to describe her. She works like a horse too, through, and pretty much flips off everyone."

I could see him drifting off after his last sentence. His gaze wandered over towards the lake and his eyes seemed to gloss over. He didn't respond to anything for a few minutes. I casted my rod back out again in the meantime.

"You know what, Benson?" Ray said slowly. "You're not half bad. Anyway, good luck fishing, I got stuff to do. Later."

"Yeah, later."

He walked off without another word, disappearing seamlessly into the woods.

I munched on my lunch, and afterwards continued fishing. I was there the whole afternoon. Using the tactics that Ray had taught me, I was bringing in numerous smaller fish. Besides actually catching fish, the afternoon was like the morning. I let my own thoughts drift wildly without borders and enjoyed my time off.

As afternoon turned into dusk, and the bright blue sky vanished into a haze of orange, I began to pack up. It was time I started going homeward bound. I went over the thought in my head again. Damn, was I starting to call that little shack and this little nowhere town home now? What the hell was wrong with me? I shrugged off my thoughts as I started walking back to the farm.

The walk was pleasant and the woods were even more beautiful in the twilight. I walked faster, as I didn't want to be caught in the middle of the woods in the night. I reached the carpenter's cabin as sunset turned into sweet darkness. Lights were on inside, but Joe and Kurt had gone home for the night. Woody promised to give the stereo back to Joe in the morning. I thanked him and moved on.

The crickets were out chirping in full chorus by the time I got back to the farmhouse. The sun had fully vanished and the only light was from nearby houses or moonlight. I quickly passed into the house. Jack was sitting in front of the ancient TV watching a grainy picture of what looked like the weather.

"Oh, hey Benson, how was your day off?" Jack asked.

"Pretty good," I said, putting away my gear and walking over to the fridge. "Caught some fish, enough to a least cook with. Hope you like sushi."

"That'll be fine," said Jack. "Hey, guess what's tomorrow?"

"Nina and the mayor get deported?"

"Haha, no Benson, tomorrow's the Spring Horse Race!"

The Horse Race! My mind flew back to the conversation I had with Bob, days earlier. If I recalled correctly, there would be gambling. Finally, something civilized in this hick town.

"Cool," I said nonchalantly. "We'll have to stop by and watch after we're done with the crops.

I never told Jack of my conversation with Bob. Mostly because I liked my cigarettes and Jack, when he wasn't being a preacher.

"Aw, c'mon, Benson!" whined Jack. "Can't we have a day off? We can always do the chores after we get back."

"No," I said flatly as I sat down next to him to watch the weather. "Chores first, playtime later."

Jack didn't say another word about it.

The chick presenting the weather was some skinny broad with short, red hair. She presented her name as 'Nami' and spoke with the barest hints of contempt in her voice. She sure sounded happy. Behind her was a gaudy backdrop of what was supposed to be the surrounding area cover in sunshine with clouds coming from the southwest.

"So, how was your day?" I asked Jack when the TV went to a commercial.

"Pretty nice," said Jack. "I got the chores done okay. Nina and Ellen stopped by while you were gone though. They seemed kind of disappointed and said they'd see you tomorrow at the races."

"Oh," I said. "Great."

Craaaaaaaap.


	6. Day At The Races

Chapter Six: Day At The Races

I awoke that morning, eager to get up, for once. We had a little farm work to do, but the inner child in me was anxious for the races. I privately thanked whatever deity was looking out for me and prayed they continued to do so in my gambling habits.

It was also the day the turnips were ready to be harvested. All those backbreaking mornings of sweating, digging and yelling at Jack had finally yielded some payoff. We had gotten tangible rewards for our efforts and I was not about to let Jack screw it all up. I instructed him to water the potatoes while I harvested the turnips. They were some damn fine ones too, an excellent quality for our first harvest. I inhaled the scent of them deeply, enjoying the smells of the vegetable and dirt. This would be a fantastic farm for crops, I guessed. All in all, we filled two big, white, plastic buckets with turnips.

Jack and I quarreled a bit over how much to sell and how much to keep. Jack wanted to keep nearly half of the haul, which was, of course, stupid. I was not going to be stuck eating some goddamn turnips for three weeks just so Jack could have the fake feelings of self-sufficiency. We needed the cash much more than we needed the food. Eventually, Jack and I reached a compromise; we kept a small stock for ourselves and shipped the rest.

At ten, Jack and I left the farm and started walking towards the town square. The day was fine with clear blue skies with only the occasional cloud for scenery. The wind came in short, warm breaths and made the weather pleasant.. As we walked, Jack explained how the races were going down.

"First race begins at eleven," said Jack. "We all go down to this old track on the outskirts of town about fifteen minutes beforehand."

"Wait, wait, wait," I interrupted. Two sentences and I could already smell the hick town logic creeping in. "Why don't we just meet at this old track and hang out there all day?"

"Can't," replied Jack. "We meet at the square beforehand and go to the track for the first race, then come back for brunch and other stuff."

I groaned. "And then we do the same thing for the other two races?"

"Yup."

"Oh, groovy, just plain groovy."

We entered the main part of town, with the clinic coming up on our left. As we walked by it, the Doctor came out. He had ditched his white doctor's coat, but still wore a light blue dress shirt, black tie and slacks. He rolled his sleeves up and approached us.

"Mornin', boys," Alex said. "You going to the races?"

"Yeah Alex," answered Jack. "We are."

The Doc nodded. "Cool. Mind if I join you?"

"Sure."

The three of us turned to the right and headed south towards the square. The Doc and I walked side by side behind Jack, who turned around to talk to us.

"So, Doc," he said casually. "You betting today?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't gamble."

"Why not?" I asked. "The pay they give you is crap or something?"

"No, it's not that," said Alex. "I just... don't."

"Oh, okay," said Jack. "You said you had to pay back the government or whatever, right?"

"Yeah, I said that."

"How long you in for?" I piped in.

"Officially, I'm here for four years," answered the Doc. "After that, I can either choose to stay or seek work someplace else."

"So… are you gonna stay?" Jack sounded hopeful.

"I'm just here to do a job," Alex replied flatly. "Speaking of jobs, Benson, I need you to stop by the clinic sometime in the next week."

"What? Why?" I asked.

"You," The doc poked me in the shoulder. "Need an up-to-date physical. According to the medical file, that by the way took _forever _to track down, you haven't had one since your freshman year of college.."

Oh yeah, the physical. I suddenly remembered why I had never liked clinics.

"Yeah sure," I said nonchalantly. "I'll stop by one day."

"Excellent," said Alex. "You know who's racing today?"

I shook my head. "Jack knows all this stuff. Ask him."

"Well Jack, who are today's jockeys?"

"The what?" Jack said, puzzled.

"The guys who ride the horses," I corrected.

"Oh," said Jack. "Well, there's Jaime, some guy from Blue Sky Ranch and another guy and girl I've never heard of."

"Girl, huh?" I said skeptically. "One of the crazy broads around here?"

"No, someone from outside of town."

"Pfft, she's probably the most inane insane of the bunch."

Alex nodded in agreement. "You mean Nina and Ellen, right?"

Jack and I nodded affirmatively.

The doc groaned. "Ugh, those two are about as subtle as a pack of pigs. They constantly come into the clinic and pretend they need help with something or made-up disease. One day they a paper cut trumped up as a war wound, the next day they have a bad case of loving me. Ugh, it just goes on and on."

"Well, they are sick in the head." I quipped.

"Heh, yeah," Alex grinned. "During their check-up they kept trying to hit on me and turn it into a date."

I gave a small laugh. "Those are the days I'm glad to be a farmer," I said.

"Oh, hey," said Jack turning around. "We're here."

The three of us had arrived just outside of the western entrance to Flower Bud Square. The tool shop was to our right, with the square's stone brick wall and flowerbeds on our left. A colorful archway had been set up over the entrance. A sign dangled from it and in thick black letters stated "SPRING HORSE RACES TODAY."

We passed under the arch and entered the square. It was packed with people, most of which I had never seen before. Where had these people hid? Just yesterday the entire place was less than a ghost town, the kind of place ghosts tell ghost stories about. I did recognize a good many of the people, I saw Ann, the mayor, Mike, Liz and a whole host of other villagers. It looked like every person in town had turned out.

I saw Joe in the crowd. I tried to get his attention. Instead of getting Joe, I got a wave of titters and giggles to answer me. Nina and Ellen tiptoed into my eyesight, wearing colorful sundresses and hats and brandishing gaudy nail polish on their fingernails.

"Well, lookee here," tittered Nina. I could feel my insides shuddering and groaning at the sound of her. "If it isn't some of our favorite men, heehee."

She stepped closer to me, I stepped back. She tried it again, and I stepped back farther. I had to restrain myself to not shove her.

"Oh! Hello Nina, Ellen," Jack said cheerfully, and politely. What a dumb bastard.

"Jaaaaack," Ellen moaned. "Will you sit next to me during the races today?"

"Hey!" Nina frowned, ignoring me, thank God. "I was gonna ask Jack that."

As a compromise, and what I believed to be an act of God, Jack was pulled away by the two harpies. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Benson, don't take this the wrong way or anything," Alex commented. "But your cousin is an idiot."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I gave him a shrug. "Can't do anything about it. It's why we love him. You should've seen some of the broads he dated in high school."

"You went to the same high school?"

Joe finally saw me and walked over before I could answer.

"Benson, Alex, what's up?" he greeted us. "I figured I'd see you here. Where's your cousin?"

"Jack became a casualty of war," I gestured over to a corner where Nina and Ellen were fawning over him.

"Poor dude," said Joe. "He will be missed. So, you guys ready for a day at the races?"

"I'm looking forward to it," said Alex.

"Joe! There you are. Woody told me you were around here somewhere."

The guy who walked up to us could only be properly described as an elderly gentleman, not an old man. He was the kind of senior citizen who looked and conducted himself respectfully. He still seemed pretty spry, for someone who looked his age. The gentleman was a big man with neatly combed gray hair and thick black eyebrows. He wore a white shirt and tan pants.

"Hey, Mr. Duke," said Joe. "How can I help you?"

"Woody said you were handling all the estimates for my bar."

"Bar?" My ears pricked up. "You're building a bar? Here? In this dump?"

"Yes m'boy, and jus-"

"And you're gonna serve alcohol, right?"

"Well of course," said Duke. "But just who might you be?"

"Sorry Mr. Duke," Joe apologized for me. "This is Benson, a local farmer."

Before we could exchange formal greetings, another voice shouted at us.

"Duke! You old codger, I never thought I'd see you again!"

A middle-aged man walked up to us. He was a sandy-haired gentleman with a bushy mustache and a touch of gray. He must have been dying in the spring warmth in his sweater vest and slacks.

"Douglas, T. Warner, what the hell are you doing here?" Duke half-yelled.

"My niece is racing today," Doug answered. "I showed up to support her and look into about building an inn here in town."

Duke clasped Joe on the shoulder. "Talk to this boy, he's an apprentice to the local carpenter. He'll tell you everything you need to know."

"You don't say?" said Doug.

It was around this point in the conversation that I drifted off. They started talking about their war days and the days when women wore longer skirts and when the whole world was in black and white. I looked around the square. Jack was still trapped. Mike was talking to the mayor. Looked like the entire event was about to be extremely boring. But then, I saw _her_.

She came in from the northern entrance, next to where the mayor was gabbing to Mike. She wore this jean vest and skirt thing, with black tights, boots and white undershirt. The body under that was hot _damn_. As she walked you could almost hear that Kenny Loggins song from _Caddyshack_. Hot _bloody damn_. This chick was the hottest little thing I had seen in a long time; blonde ponytail, damn fine curves, gorgeous green eyes, she had it all.

I pulled Alex away from the group and pointed the newcomer out.

"Well, well," said Alex, stroking his chin. "This town _does_ seem to have some quality girls, after all. Way too young for me though, she must still be in high school."

"Yeah well," I said quietly. "As long as she's of age."

"She looks very familiar though…" Alex trailed off.

Someone rang a loud bell and the whole square went quiet. The mayor stood on a soapbox. His head didn't even make it over the sea of heads, but his distinctive red top hat did.

"Attention, everyone!" he squeaked. "The first race starts in fifteen minutes! Everyone should start to head to the racetrack! Thank you!"

He stepped off the box and vanished into the crowd. I guessed he must've headed straight out of the northern exit because people began pouring out of the square in that direction en masse. The doc and I followed slowly.

"Didn't even get a chance to place a bet," I grumbled.

"Oh relax," said the doc. "There's two more races after this one."

I sighed. We followed the herd of people out of the north gate. We turned right and walked on this dirt path that ran northeast out of town. It nestled us between two hills before leaving them behind and opening up to a large field surrounded by more hills and trees. A huge dirt track was plopped down in the field's center, corralled by wooden fences. To one side was a primitively built starting gate that had four horses already lined up. On the side of the track closet to us were some wooden stands, big enough to hold everyone who had come and then some.

Alex and I took seats in the third row. I looked around. Jack was several rows higher than us on one of the ends. The poor schmuck was sandwiched between Nina and Ellen. I chuckled. Better him than me.

"Full crowd," I commented. "Where'd they all come from? The town's half-abandoned even on good days."

The seats behind and below us were clear of people. The doc stretched his legs, leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. "Well, yeah, the town used to be a veritable Mecca before entirely going kaplunk during some recession or something. People may not live in town anymore, but they sure as hell still come for the races. They're supposed to be pretty good."

"Get that little tidbit from the mayor?" I grinned.

"No, actually I read it in the town library."

"This joint has a library?"

"Yeah, opened a few days ago not far from the village square. The mayor's daughter runs it. I think her name's May or Maria or Margarita or something like that."

I internally groaned at the thought of an entire family like the annoying little pipsqueak mayor. I let my attention wander over to the track. The jockeys had started to gather near their horses. All the horses were brown, except for a black one, which I guessed belonged to Blue. The tranny was also there, as well as a person I had never seen in town before. Then the girl who I had been eyeing in the square hopped on a horse, hers I assumed.

"Hey, hey doc," I elbowed Alex. "Check out whose racing."

His eyes lit up wide. "Oh! I remember where I've seen her now. She was racing in the fall horse race too."

"Oh really? She's a horse racer then. What else do you know about her?"

"I believe she's the niece of that Doug guy we met earlier, the one who wants to open an inn in town. I think her name is…"

Before Alex could answer and I could find out the name of the lovely sweetie on the horse down at the track, a gunshot went off. The starting gates opened and the four horses galloped out. They quickly took off around the track. The race had begun.

Blue took an early lead, first out of the gate and around the first turn. His black horse led a considerable lead before slowly being overtaken by Jaime. By the time the horses had reached the halfway marker, she was far ahead of the pack.

But someone else followed her, quickly catching up. It was the blonde girl from the square that I'd been oogling. She put up a pretty good fight, but she never quite caught up close enough to overtake the tranny. Jaime crossed the finish line coming in first, and the crowd went wild for the winner. Blondie came second, blue came third, and the unknown person came last.

The crowd was ecstatic, and the doc and I glanced at each other. We both got the same feeling they'd cheer for anything and everything no matter what happened. The crowded roared and screamed and stomped their feet. The mayor stood on a fence post, announced the winner and said:

"Now back to the square for brunch and some mingling!"

"That's _it_?" I exclaimed. "A five minute race for a ten minute walk?"

The doc laughed. "It's a village tradition that this town will never give up."

"This town is insane," I growled. "Stupidest bunch of idiots, ever. I can't wait to get out."

"Hey, I'm with you, Benson," Alex nodded and agreed.

A little bit later we both walked into the square. Long rectangular tables of food had been laid out while we had been gone. We saw Jack and Joe talking and decided to join them.

"You guys are just in time," Joe grinned. "I was just talking to the ladies man over here." He nudged Jack.

I went along with it. "Oh Jack, do tell, how do you get all those ladies? How do you do it?" I said sarcastically.

Jack went red and mumbled. "Well… I really don't…"

The three of us roared with laughter.

"Whoa now, boys, act cool," said Joe. He pointed behind us. "The only decent girl in town just walked in."

I turned around and there was the blonde rider, all sweaty and what not.

"If you'll excuse me boys," I pushed them aside. "It's time to go to work."

I could hear Joe behind me protest as I walked away. Alex told him to keep quiet and watch. Time to shine, Benson.

The girl had made her way over to the tables where large amounts of food had been laid out. She grabbed a paper plate and began to help herself to it. I grabbed a plate for myself and followed behind her down the table.

"Nice race," I said casually.

"Thanks," she replied. She gave me a smile and looked at me with a beautiful pair of eyes. They were some sort of red or brown or some knockout color.

"I don't think I've seen you at the races before," her forehead creased, trying to think.

"I could say the same about you." I answered smoothly.

"Heh," the girl giggled and put some fruit on her plate. "Are you one of those who came here on the mayor's plans?"

"Well, not technically, no," I said, taking a muffin from the table. "My cousin was, he just asked me to come and help him."

"Yeah, I remember the mayor telling me about that earlier," the girl said. "Kingsford Farm, right?"

"You would be correct," I grinned. "I see our reputation precedes us."

The girl laughed again. "Not in a good way."

"Might as well be best or worst, the ones in the middle never get noticed."

"That's a cheerful saying," the girl replied as we reached the end of the table. "My uncle wants to build an inn here, and if he does I'll probably move out here to help him run it. I'm Gwen, by the way."

I offered my hand and she took it. "Call me Benson."

"Okay then, see you around Benson," she left the table and walked away.

"You too, Gwen."

I walked back over to the boys. Joe gave me a sheepish grin.

"Do good, brother?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," I offered them the plate of food, all three of them accepted. "We'll see if she sticks."

Joe nodded, swallowing a bite of a muffin. "Say, you wanna bet on your lady friend? The mayor has given her good odds."

I grinned. Finally something fun and sane in this town. I nodded and the two of us ambled over to the bookie. Alex abstained, as he said he would and so did Jack, who, as soon as we left, was snatched up again by the harpies. Joe and I more than made up for the two of them. Joe wouldn't tell me whom he bet on, but I wagered on Blue and Gwen. Blue showed a lot of promise and Gwen… well, it would make for an excellent pick up line.

Soon after we placed our bets and rejoined the Doc, the mayor announced it was time for the second race. The three of us, Alex, Joe and myself stomped out towards the track with the rest of the crowd. We settled ourselves done quickly, and waited for the race to start.

Within a few more minutes, the horses lined up, the riders were saddled and the now-familiar gunshot went off. The second race was nearly as interesting or exciting as the first; Jaime took an early lead and kept it, winning by a large amount.

I swore softly. I lost my bet and that damned tranny seemed unbeatable. I shot a glance at the guys. Joe just shrugged. He knew whom I didn't bet on.

"Sorry, mate," he said. "Jaime's damn good at nearly everything she does."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, she pretty much did the same thing last time."

"Well… damn it," I said dejectedly.

The three of us started our way back to the square. Before we got far, the mustached gentleman from earlier that morning walked up to us.

"Joe, we never got that proper talk," he said.

"We didn't, did we, Mr. Walker?" Joe replied. "You remember Alex and Benson from before."

"Nice to meet you boys," Doug shook our hands. He had a good, strong handshake, I noticed. "Now about the inn, I'd like it done by the first of summer."

"Sorry Mr. Walker," said Joe. "That's gonna be kind of hard."

"Why?"

"Well, there's only three of us and only a few weeks left until Summer, we just don't have enough man power to get your inn and Mr. Duke's bar done."

"Can't you hire more carpenters from out of town?"

"We tried already, no one is interested in coming down this far to do a speedy job so soon."

"But I've already advertised and had some interest and everything," said Doug. "I can't take it all back now, I can't go back on my word." He seemed to be almost pleading to Joe.

"Mr. Walker, if you really want some more help to work on your inn, I'd be happy to help," I offered.

His face was blank for a few seconds. He couldn't believe what I just offered. "Sure, sure," he said quickly. "But, don't call me Mr. Walker, call me Doug."

"Sure thing."

"Is that alright with you, Joe?" Doug said. "If he helps?"

Joe rubbed his chin. "I dunno, Benson you're an alright guy and all, but I dunno if Woody will take on someone not already in the business."

"Look," I said to Joe. "As long as whoever's wielding the damn hammer doesn't have the hand-eye coordination of a drunken monkey, what's the problem? We'll just keep the tools away from Jack"

The apprentice carpenter sighed. "Well, we could use the extra help. I'll pass word on the boss. You in on this too, Doc?"

Alex shook his head. "Sorry, I can't be away from the clinic that long."

"Here's what I'll do," I said. "Jack can handle most of the farming, it's just watering from here on out anyway, nothing too hard. I'll come round a little later to make sure he hasn't set the whole place on fire. Hell, I'll probably bring him round to help too. When we doing this?"

"Soon, really soon," answered Joe. "We'll start sometime in the next couple of days, probably. I'll go have a chat with the boss."

Doug clasped me on the shoulder. "Thanks son."

I removed his hand from my shoulder. "Call me Benson." I replied and we shook hands again.

By this time we had found ourselves in the square again. Doug left to go talk to the mayor or someone else he knew. Joe went off in search of Woody to talk about Jack and I helping with their work for the rest of the Spring. It was just the Doc and me again.

"Benson, I haven't known you long," Alex began. "But you don't seem the type to automatically volunteer for someone you've just met."

I gave a devilish grin. "Well, not usually no. You remember the blond chick from earlier?"

"Oh, your girlfriend?" he said sarcastically.

"That geezer, Doug, he's her uncle, and if that inn gets built, she'll move down here into town."

"Heh, I see your scheme now, I'm on to you. You betting again?"

"Naturally."

"Betting on Jaime or just feel like losing money again?"

"Hell no," I spat. "I'll never bet on the tranny, I'll put what I got left on Gwen."

"You'll do anything for a girl, huh?"

"Apparently." I strolled over to the bookie to place my wager. I went back over to the Doc with my pockets much lighter. Joe had returned.

"Woody's fine with it," he said. "So long as the doc is around, just in case. Bringing anyone else besides you and Jack?"

"Maybe," I replied. "I'll have to find him and ask. Come round the farm some night and we'll iron everything out."

"Sounds good."

We sat around chatting for a bit more before the mayor stood on his soapbox again and shepherded us back to the racetrack. I didn't see Gwen anywhere and felt a little disappointed. Joe, the Doc and I made our way with the rest of the herd back to the track. We sat near the top rows and waited for the race to begin.

It didn't take a long wait, the race started shortly after we sat down. I wasn't even sure of the time, this last one was supposed to be at one o'clock, and it felt as if no time had passed since Jack and I arrived in the square earlier in the morning. Regardless of my lost sense of time, someone fired a pistol and the horses sped out of the gate.

Jaime shot of the gate first and took another early lead. However, she had to fight for it this time. Blue was right on her tail the whole time. He would pull ahead, but then so would she, but then Blue's horse would find another wind, and so would Jaime's. They exchanged first place for most of the race, neither taking a decent amount of distance to secure it.

As Jaime rounded the last bend in the track, she started pulling away from Blue. I could hear myself, and some others in the crowd, groan. Suddenly and unexpectedly, Gwen flew past her, keeping close to the inside track. You could see the look of pure and utter shock on Jaime's face when she realized what had just happened. She nearly stopped her horse if she hadn't realized what she was doing in time. Gwen passed the finish line, taking first place, with Blue coming in second, and a disgruntled Jaime taking third.

When Gwen passed the finish line, I found myself cheering just as hard with every other cheeky slag in the stadium. Almost immediately, I half-ran back to the square to collect on my bet, relishing the thought of the large amount of winnings I was sure to receive because of it. Alex and Joe trailed behind me, catching up with me just as I left the bookie.

"Well, well, well," said Joe. "Look who won big."

"I'm just glad Jaime lost for once," Alex remarked.

"Yeah me too," I said. "Cause it means more cash for me."

"I'm sure that's all you wanted," Alex rolled his eyes. I just shrugged.

"Hey, you!" said a voice. Gwen approached us, or rather, me. "I won a race!"

"Awesome," I congratulated her. I shot a short glare at the other two and they said their own congratulations.

"Thanks, it's my first win. The mayor says it's also the first time someone has won racing against Jaime."

"We're all glad someone finally beat her," said Joe. "You should have seen her face when you passed her! Classic!"

We all laughed.

"So, you in town long after this?" I asked her.

"I'm staying a few days in town with my uncle while he gets his inn business sorted out." She answered.

"Well, maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe," she winked.

She left and went off to talk to another group of wish-wellers. Jack emerged from the crowd, looking a little flustered. We greeted the Casanova.

"Well, the races are over," said Alex. "What did you guys think?"

I answered first. "They were alright. I met a girl and won a bunch of cash."

"Benson! You bet?" It seemed like Jack was trying to scold me. Poor boy needed to realize not everyone was as clean as him.

"What are you, my mum?" I snapped. "It was my money to begin with, not any of the farm's cash, so relax."

Jack frowned and breathed audibly breathed through his nose. He always did that when he was really pissed, even when we were kids. I think he thought it made him look badass.

"But, to answer the question," I said, holding up my hands as a sort of peace sign. "They were nice races."

"Yeah," said Jack, looking at me warily. "They were."


	7. Building Paradise

Chapter Seven: Building Paradise

The morning after the races I went into the Clinic to see about getting my physical. After about an hour of being poked and prodded, after peeing in a cup and being told to turn my head and cough, after all the things I never liked about going to the doctor for, Alex gave me a clean bill of health. There was one exception, he strongly advised me to stop smoking. I answered by flipping him the bird.

I walked out of the Clinic and headed towards the lake. I had every intention of asking Ray to help out with the Inn and bar. I doubted he would help, but perhaps the strong prospect of alcohol and decent women were enough to convince him otherwise. Hell, it was what hauled me in. If I couldn't convince him through that or the money Joe had instructed me to offer any possible helper, then Ray would've had to be a beast or a god, as Aristotle or some old geezer who wore blankets had said.

I had no idea where I could find Ray. He never mentioned any place of residence, except for the fact that he detested most of the time. I assumed he must've been somewhere on the outskirts, far away from the town center. Instead, I opted for the town lake, if there was anyplace for a misanthropic fisherman, it was probably at least a good start.

Luckily for me, Ray was fishing off the south side of the lake. He was perched on a large rock outcropping. I waved my arm to get his attention and he beckoned me over.

"Morning, Benson," he said politely. "Come to fish?"

"Not really, not today," I replied. "I'm here because I want to ask you something."

"Really? Well what is it? Fishing tips? Foraging tips? Or are you just desperate for a date?" The last sentence was laced with enough sarcasm to drown a puppy.

I brushed it off and chuckled before going into an explanation of the building project. The whole I talked of it, he just stared blankly at the water, near where his line had gone in, without saying a word. The silence from him didn't help me at all, and I felt myself almost going a little on edge.

"So," Ray began slowly. "Why do you want my help?"

"You're a half decent guy in my book, Woody's short on help and you're fairly sane compared to some other townspeople."

"But… why _me_?" he repeated. "I can't stand most of the people over in town, and neither can you. Why the hell are you helping? You seemed more eager to slam the door in the face than do anything with them."

"Well, it gets alcohol in town," I answered. "Bob refuses to transport it, for whatever reason, I think he's a undercover teetotaler or something, but he didn't actually say why and there's this gi-."

Ray connected the dots before I finished my sentence. "Oh I get it, it's not _just_ the booze, you wouldn't _just_ do this for the booze, you wouldn't come here to find me if it was _just_ about alcohol. You're looking to impress some sweet piece of ass you met and you're looking to impress her by helping build these things. So who is she? Did one of the crazies win you over? Is it Ellen? No, wait, Nina! Actually I bet Ann would get your knickers in a twist." His line of thinking visibly entertained him.

"Well not really impress her, so much as get her to move here. But seriously will you help?"

Ray laughed and rubbed his eyes. "So, what's in it for me?" he said flatly. "I'm not much motivated by booze nearly as much as you are and you've apparently already called dibs on this little lady."

"Well, if that didn't entice you, I am supposed to," I pulled a slip of paper from my back pocket and handed to him. "Offer you that. That much money is yours after both buildings are completed. Whaddya say?"

Ray frowned while looking at the number. He held it up to the sun, almost as if he was checking to see if it was real. He looked at me, then glared at the paper, then me, then the paper again.

"Well, whaddya say?" I said again.

His face broke out in a grin and he pocketed the slip of paper. "Hell, sure why not, I'll help. Beats catching a load of cheap fish the rest of the season."

I told him to come by the farm after dark and left him there sitting by the lake. The rest of the day was spent cleaning the farm of weeds and experiment what Jack and I could make from turnips. The experiments turned out all bust and left us with a greatly depleted stock of turnips. Neither Jack nor I were complaining, as we had slowly lost taste for the bastard vegetables.

Evening eventually came around and so did Doug, Duke Woody, Kurt, Joe and lastly Ray. We started sitting down in the farmhouse around the old creaky table, but we soon quickly realized that Jack and I didn't own nearly enough chairs for everyone present. Joe and Kurt went off into the night and brought back large blocks of wood to act as stools. Eventually, everyone sat down and the conversation started. I formally introduced Ray to everyone present and we hunkered down to business.

"I want to thank you all for coming here," Doug began.

Woody waved a hand at him. "Spare us the pleasantries," he said. "Let's jus' get the job done."

Doug nodded silently. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ray stifle a laugh and a grin.

Jack broke the silence. "Does anyone want a drink? I can offer you guys water and… um… just water."

The group answered with a series of no and negative grunts, or at least what sounded like negative grunts.

"Right then," Woody drawled. "Let's get down to business. Here's the plan. The wood and tools are all assembled at the first site. Duke has conceded we work on Doug's inn first, since some of the bar's supplies have been delayed."

"Delayed is putting it mildly," Duke snorted. "Damned delivery boy over in the next city drank the alcohol I ordered and pilfered the rest."

Woody laughed, showing off rows of yellowed teeth. "So, we can miss the original deadline, freeing us up to reach Doug's. Now, we're not actually building new buildings, that would be long and expensive, of which neither Duke nor Doug want. What we're pretty much doing is remodeling and revamping two already existing buildings, and bringing them up to code and such."

"Where are these two buildings?" asked Jack.

"The one Doug has selected for the inn is actually an old abandoned inn. It's right by the water, uh, down by the bridge closest to the ocean, I forget the street's name. But you'll know it when you see it, as it's the buildings with the crap piled next to it. Now we should finish what we need to do in about week, week and half, but only if we work on it around the clock; that means sunup to sundown, gang. All you alright wit' that?"

"Yes."

"Yup."

"Yeah."

"Yup."

"Uh-huh."

Woody nodded and turned to me. "Joe tells me you won't be there at dawn."

"Well no, Jack and I do have a farm to run," I replied.

The old carpenter nodded again. "Understandable. Jack you in this too?"

"Uh… sure?" Jack said uncertainly.

"Great, now when the inn is finished, we'll do the bar. It's much smaller and shouldn't take nearly as long. The bar's location is located not far from here actually, just down the road from Jaime Farm."

The rest of the room groaned at the mention of the name. In response to us, Woody gave a dusty chuckle that quickly degenerated into a cough. Jack smartly fetched him some water and he slowly recovered.

"Thanks, Jack," said Woody. "So, any questions?"

We all looked at each other. No one had any concerns, at least none I could read on their faces.

"Well, Benson, Jack, see you tomorrow morning, the rest of you, see you at dawn! G'night all."

He ambled out the door. Ray followed him, I surmised he wanted to talk more about the payment and see if the number I had given him was true. The rest of the group drifted out slowly, even Joe who I had hoped would stay awhile.

"Naw, Benson," he said as he left. "Go to bed early, you're gonna need it for the next couple of weeks. Heh, you especially, this is gonna kill ya, all for a woman and some beer!" He laughed wildly as he went out the door.

The son of a bitch had been right. The next couple of weeks were some of the most exhausting days of my entire life. I hadn't woken up so sore from a day of work since Jack and I had begun farming. I was damning myself by the time the third day had come round and wondering if the alcohol and girl was really worth it.

Each day quickly settled into a routine. First Jack and I would spend some of the morning on the farm, tending to it, weeding and watering. I would usually leave Jack halfway through to join the construction. The only times we were truly late to help were the few days left in the season that we harvested and planted more crops. After finishing farm work we would spend the rest of the day at the construction site, hammering at work, tearing some old rotted beams or cleaning or painting or some hard grueling work.

Ray, though, didn't mind the work and kept his own fatigue well hidden. That boy had resilience, I imagined he finally believed he was getting paid, which was the only reason he stuck around working as hard as he did. I'm sure Doug and Duke felt that they were more than getting their money's worth. I wondered to myself I hadn't entirely misjudged Ray.

The first day of work we took a break a little after noon for lunch. Ray sat down next to me on a fallen log just around the back of the inn.

"Hey Benson," he said. "Enjoying yourself?"

"As much as I can," I replied, chewing on a piece of an apple.

"Cool, cool," said Ray. "You, uh, still interested in foraging?"

"Yeah, I was gonna do it some time soon, but," I jerked my head in the direction of the inn. "Y'know, can't do it now. I'll probably do it sometime in the summer now."

"Yeah, yeah, well, uh, there's some good stuff up there in the summer. They got berries, some other fruit, herbs, and even some jalapenos. It's a gold mine."

"Hmm, yeah." My mouth was full from the apple.

"Hell… I almost feel like goin' off there right now." Ray muttered.

"Oh?" I swallowed the apple. "Work here too much for you?" I gave a slight laugh and bit into the apple again.

He frowned at me. "What? God no, work's fine, 'course it's not the work, it's the people I can't stand.

"Eh?" I chewed the apple and swallowed. "C'mon, people we got here aren't that bad. Could be a lot worse, but Doug and Duke and the carpenters ain't half bad."

"So say you," Ray replied skeptically. "So say you."

The construction or remodeling or whatever the hell we were doing, didn't go nearly as smoothly as I would have wanted. Woody had expected all the little mishaps, mostly from Jack, and even a few from me on the site; more than a few times, Jack whacked himself, me, or something else on the site with a hammer or a long plank of wood, or dumped sawdust on them. They were pure accidents, but Joe usually muttered that having Jack helping was like asking the Three Stooges to help. I grinned, and told him that was the story of my life.

Occasionally, Jack or I would do something wrong. We would hammer the wrong nail, or just do something we were told to do poorly. These mistakes popped up more over the first few days, and we progressed, they happened more rarely. Most of the work was simple, take out bad wood beams, replace them with new ones, reinforce this, or that, and replace the floors or whatever.

In fact, we were putting in the new floors one day when something happened that I didn't think would ever happen in such a hick town. It was early afternoon; Ray and I were replacing the floors in the rooms on the second floor. The professional carpenters were re-shingling the roof. Doug was working in the kitchen and Duke was outside taking out the glass from the windows and washing them. Jack had gone back to the farm during the lunch break to get something from the farm. I think he went back to get an axe after he broke one of Woody's.

Ray was coughing violently. The room we were in was full of dust and probably hadn't been cleaned or aired out since its last occupation.

"Goddamn, this room is dusty," Ray said.

I opened the window. "Yeah, look like no one's been in here for years. Here, that should help."

"Thanks," said Ray. He went over to the window and took deep breaths of the fresh air.

Duke's voice came from outside. "Woody! Hey Woody!"

"What the hell is he yellin' for?" I said.

Ray poked his head out the window. "Looks like he's got some kid with him."

"Huh?" I joined Ray by the window. A guy that looked few years younger than Jack was standing next to Duke. It looked the guy I had seen working the fields at Blue Sky Ranch.

"I think that's Blue," I told Ray. "Real quiet kid from the Ranch across the street from my place. Wonder what he's doing here?"

"Woody! Woody!" Duke yelled again. "You still up there?"

"What!? What's the matter?" Woody's voice came from above me.

"We got another volunteer!" Duke answered. "It's Hank's kin, his nephew or something!"

"Well boy, you've come to help us, eh?" said Woody. "Don't be shy now, speak up."

Blue looked up. I could distinctly make out two cold, pale blue eyes. "Yes sir," he replied without emotion. "I have."

"Lovely!" said Woody. "Go help the boys on the second floor. They'll tell you what to do."

"Gee, thanks Woody," Ray muttered.

Blue nodded and disappeared out of our sight. The show was over, so Ray and I went back to nailing in new floorboards. A few minutes later Blue appeared in the doorway.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Afternoon," I replied politely. Ray just gave a grunt. "Didn't expect to see you here. Don't you have to take care of the animals over at Blue Sky?"

Blue shrugged. "My stupid cousin put me up to it, said she would handle the chores if I came here to help."

"What, the ranch needs the money?"

Ray scoffed and shook his head. "Benson, I'm disappointed in you. If anything this is Ellen's way of getting in with you and Jack."

"But why not come here herself?" I asked.

"Probably because she knows that'd put you on your toes," said Ray. "But actually I don't think Woody would let a woman work on something like this."

"Where is Jack, anyway?" Blue asked. "It looks like only you guys are up here. I kind of figured you wouldn't let him out of your sight."

"I'm glad my reputation proceeds me," I said. "But yeah, he should be back my now. I wonder if he ran into the harpies or worse?"

Ray giggled. "What could be worse than them?"

Blue looked downright confused, but we didn't get a chance to explain what exactly we thought of his cousin and her friends. At that moment, we heard something yelling in the far off distance.

"What is that?" said Ray.

"Keep quiet," I snapped. "It almost sounds like someone's shouting…"

"BENSON! BENSON!"

"Christ, who the hell is shouting my name?" I grumbled. "Nearly sounds like a woman."

Ray went over to the window. "Actually, it's Jack."

"What?" I pushed him aside and looked out the window. Jack was running down the road.

"BENSON! BENSON!" The great fool of my cousin shouted again.

"What? What the hell is it?" I screamed out the window crankily. "Jack, what the hell's the matter?"

"Something's happened at the farm."

"What? Spit it out."

"Come and see for yourself."

It was one of the most bastardizing things I had ever seen in that town. It completely insulted Jack, myself and to top it all off would set us back a few days. It could only be the work of a complete and utter bastard and it really pissed me off.

Someone, while Jack and myself had been preoccupied at the inn that morning, had taken an opportunity to vandalize the farm. Half the crops had been uprooted and strewn all over the ground, another quarter had been hacked down. One of the fences had been uprooted, broken in half and thrown into the road. There were a plethora of scratch marks all over one side of the farmhouse, as if someone had attempted to attack it in a rage.

"Son of a god damned bitch," I swore. "Is there anything missing from the house?"

Jack shook his head. "Nothing's missing. I asked around if anyone saw who did this, but no one was around at the time."

"Oh, don't worry Jack," I said stomping away. "I know who did it."

"Benson, where are you going?"

"To handle _this_." I replied.

"Where?"

"You know where!" I said angrily over my shoulder. "Jaime's the only one who obviously would do something like this."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jack got in front of me and held up his hands as a meager sign of peace. "You don't know that she was the one who did this."

I glared at him. "Jack, it's fairly obvious she did. Every time she sees us she always says how she'll be the better farmer and how she'll ruin us."

"Benson, you know that's not enough."

"I don't give a crap, Jack!" I shouted.

"Look, we're supposed to be at the inn right now," Jack reasoned. "Let's just go back, finish what we're supposed to do today's work and talk about it later tonight."

"Fine," I grumbled. "But this isn't over."

"I know," said Jack furrowing his eyebrows. "And that's what worries me."

We spent the next day replanting, cleaning and straightening out the farm. The whole town was abuzz with the news of it; crimes were rare in Flower Bud. The mayor started what he called an "official" investigation, but it ended up being an excuse to gossip.

A few days after the vandalism, sometime around the twenty-fifth I think, we finished the inn. Even I had to admit, for all the screw-ups, it looked like a pretty sweet place. We had actually done a pretty good job on it in the end. Even Woody was impressed.

"I really gotta hand it to you guys," he said. "Nice job. You'd make good carpenters. Any chance of giving up farming?"

"Nope!" said Jack, smiling. "Not a chance."

From there on out we switched our attention further north to the bar. It was a dinky little building; the barns at the Blue Sky Ranch were probably bigger than it. Duke was fine with it; he thought it cozy.

"Maybe one day I'll enlarge it," Duke said. "But not know, I like it as is."

When we finished the inn, Doug stopped working with us. He had to move all the furniture into its place and arrange everything in the inn so it was ready for business. He thanked us for all our help and promised to throw a grand opening party in our honor on the first of Summer.

The work on the bar went more smoothly than the work on the inn. By now, Jack and I had finally gotten the hang of basic carpentry work. Things progressed without too much trouble, and they went fast too, without too many injuries.

The day after we commenced work on the bar, Gwen came to Flower Bud Village, this time permanently, to move into the inn. She stopped by a few days during our lunch breaks to bring us some food and chat awhile. She only left when Woody yelled at us to get back to work.

The third day of work the farm was the victim of vandals again. I was furious, and it took both Jack and Joe to restrain me from doing anything drastic.

"Look, Benson, I get where you're coming from, but you ain't got a thing on Jaime," said Joe. "If you go over there and make a scene, the town will have you thrown out."

"What proof do I need, damn it!" I snapped. "There's no one else in town who would do it! No one else!"

Sadly, it was too late in the season for Jack and I to replant the uprooted crops. To vent my capped anger, I threw the stalks into the lake, flinging them far. It helped a little. Joe promised to help with the scratch marks on the outside of the house.

Aside from the second act of vandalism, the bar's work went without any more hitches and was completed on the very last day of Spring. Duke thanked us for our help and Woody said we would receive payment in the morning. As soon as the work was done, Ray stalked off back to the woods, holding Woody to his word. Blue kind of just slinked away back to his ranch, and the carpenters headed home. Just Jack and I were left to go home our own way.

"That was hard work!" said Jack.

"Yeah," I replied. "It was, but at least we'll be compensated well."

"That too. But I learned so much!"

"Whatever. Look Jack, I been doing some number crunching the past few days and I've been thinking."

"About what?" asked Jack.

"Well, what do you know about farm animals?"

"Uh, that cows give milk and chickens lay eggs."

"Do you know anything else?"

Jack shrugged. "Not really.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Like I said, I was crunching numbers, and I think we have enough to have Woody build us a chicken coop and get us a chicken or two."

"Really?" my cousin's eyes lit up and widened. He was getting excited. The silly prick always liked animals. "Chickens?"

"Yup, chickens," I said. "Only problem is we gotta provide the wood."

"But, Doug and Duke didn't have to."

"That's 'cause they bought their wood from Woody, which makes it rather expensive." I explained. "Don't worry, there's two trees on the property that can be cut down, and there are stumps and logs all across this area. We'll have no problem getting enough."

"But," said Jack. "We'll get chickens right?"

"Yeah, but there is one problem."

"Aw, what?"

"No room for a coop and crops," I said. "Jack the mayor gave you a raw deal with his little economic plan. The three pieces of land he gave you? Absolute crap pieces! We can only do one thing at each."

"Oh." Jack looked disappointed.

"I knew there was a catch when you told me about the plan in your letter," I went on. "But, here's the kicker, all the land sold in town goes through Woody, who probably gives kickbacks to the mayor or town as a whole. The entire thing's one big scam!"

"So we need to buy more land?"

"Yeah," I answered grimly. "The mayor's a no-good fleecing bastard."

Jack just shrugged. "We gotta do what we gotta do."

"Yeah," I sighed again. "We do."

The next morning Jack found an invitation from Doug in the mailbox. PERCH INN GRAND OPENING TODAY, it read. PARTY TODAY AT NOON!

"Must be the party Doug promised us," said Jack.

"Must be," I said.

"Says they'll be free food.

My ears perked up. "Good enough for me."

The Perch Inn was a two story, thick rectangular building by the ocean. After the renovation, it look good as new with white siding, and a salmon colored roof. The entrance was a pair of strong double oak doors.

Jack and I entered to find many people already there in the lobby. From what I could see over the heads, a hallway continued to the left of the front desk in front of us, ending up a staircase. To the right were some tables, laden with food and drink, with an archway at the far right leading to the kitchen. The floors were beige hardwood, and the walls were laid with yellow floral wallpaper.

"Boys, so glad you could make it!" Doug said when he saw us. A St. Bernard was sitting next to him.

"Glad to be here," Jack said with a smile. "I like what you've done with the place."

"It sure did clean up nice," Doug nodded. He was all smiles today. "Help yourself to some food boys, me and Gwen spent all morning in the kitchen." He directed us towards the tables.

I helped myself to a tomato sandwich and Jack munched on some seafood pizza. The food was all quite excellent, best I had in years. I gave Doug a rare, but well-deserved compliment.

"I ain't the one you should be saying thank to," he said. "Gwen did most if it."

The party itself had quite the turnout; nearly everyone in town was there. Even Ray made an appearance. We were all crammed in by the time everyone had arrived, but it was good food and good conversation, so the whole lot didn't mind, and neither did I. When it looked like no one else was coming, Doug stood on the lobby desk to make an announcement.

"Thank you all for coming!" he said with a big grin. "It means a lot to me and Gwen both. Perch Inn is now officially open for business, nine 'o'clock in the morning till midnight. I hope you all come for some good food and to give this old man some conversation."

A few chuckles ran through the crowd. I have to admit, I gave a half-laugh as well. I looked around the room. My eyes soon met Jaime's glaring at me. I frowned and glared back. She was probably still mulling over how to vandalize the farm again.

"Now, I'm not an orator," Duke continued. "So I'll cut it short. Cheers, and enjoy the food."

I raised my hand, not taking my eyes off Jaime until Doug called on me and I started speaking. "Hey, Duke, could I say something?"

The innkeeper looked perplexed at the sound of my request. "Uh, sure, sure, just come on up here, son."

I squeezed through the crowd and clambered up on the desk.

"Everyone this is Benson, a local farmer. He helped fix up this place." Duke said before hopping off the desk.

"Thank you, thank you," I said in my loudest, most authoritative voice. "You may not know me, and I don't really care about knowing you. I'm a farmer over at Kingsford Farm. Me and my cousin were with the group that renovated this joint."

The crowd applauded. I raised my hand to stop them.

"I didn't get on this soapbox to brag," I said. "While we were working here, someone vandalized the farm. Twice."

A series of murmurs ran through the crowd. They all had heard the rumors.

"Whatever bastard did it," I stared directly at Jaime, boring my gaze into her. "I just want you to know, if I ever find out who you are, you're dead meat. Thank you and enjoy the party."

Doug looked intensely worried and flushed as I stepped off the desk. Jack looked like he was ready to clobber me.

"What did you do that for?" Jack said. He sounded pissed.

"Jack, our farm was vandalized," I said in a low voice. "It was attacked. Now we have to assert ourselves so it doesn't happen again. Understand?"

"But Benson, there was no reason to blame Jaime."

"Oh please, spare me the pity party. Everyone in town already thinks she did it. Besides, on the off chance it wasn't her, whoever did it probably was here to hear the warning. If they weren't, they'll hear it soon enough."

"I still wish you hadn't done it."

I gave my cousin a reassuring smile. "Look at this way, we're in for a hell of a summer."


	8. Summer Days and Nights

Chapter Eight: Summer Days and Nights

I quickly learned that summers were sweltering in Flower Bud Village for farmers who spent their days in the field. The heat was incredible, like nothing I'd felt in the city, even on days when I was cooped up in my small apartment with just a small plastic fan to cool me down. A plot of shade or a cool drink wasn't enough to keep a man cool or from sweating buckets. We persevered, somehow and eventually got used to it, in our own odd little way. That didn't stop me from praying for rain every day.

To my great surprise and joy, the crops we could grow in the summer were wonderful and most importantly, extremely profitable. We could plant corn, melons, onions and oddly enough cocoa plants. Many of them would be able to be harvested multiple times during the season. I grinned every time I ran the numbers through my head. This would be an excellent summer for the farm. Jack agreed with me to put the chicken coop on the back burner for a few weeks while we focused on crops.

On one of the first few days of the Summer season, the town had a 'Beach Festival.' In reality, it was less of a festival, and more of an excuse for shops to close on the first nice day of the season and go enjoy themselves in the sand. It was a stupid excuse, but even I had to admit it was an alright holiday.

The day of the festival wasn't entirely ideal. There were still some clouds hanging around dully in the sky, and any stray breeze would often knock them in front of the sun. But it was still a pretty nice day, and so the mayor decided that the festival would still take place.

The town had a beach along the shore past the carpenter's house and Spring Farm. It was actually a fairly nice beach, for such a small town. There were hardly any rocks, the sand was clean and white, and the water was a deep blue. Some picnic tables, blankets and red and white pinstriped umbrellas had been set up at various locales around the beach. The arch that had been placed in the square entrance during the Horse Races now stood over the entrance to the beach. The sign hung from it read BEACH FESTIVAL TODAY.

There weren't nearly as many people at the beach that had been at Doug's a few days previously. In the festival's defense, the beach was a wide open space, the Inn lobby wasn't, giving the illusion of population. Nevertheless I had begun to see a pattern of the people who came to these things. More or less, the same people showed up to every festival, with a few token ones showing up for individual festivals. I also noticed that the major shopkeepers and their workers were the ones who were at the festivals. I wondered to myself if there wasn't something going on behind the scenes.

I sat down across from the Doc at a picnic table and lit a cigarette. I dropped the lighter onto my lap.

"Haven't seen you in awhile," he remarked. He wore a pair of dark shades and was surprisingly out of his usual attire. Today, Alex wore beige shorts and baby blue T-shirt.

"Been a bit busy," I said in-between puffs.

Alex smiled. "Oh yeah, how's your epic quest to charm the pants off Gwen?"

I whacked him on the side of the head. "Not so loud," I muttered.

"Oh relax," the doc scoffed. "It's not like it's some big secret, and anyone who knows doesn't care."

"People know?"

"Benson, you are not that subtle," Alex replied. "And this town is a bunch of gossips. The only people who don't know are probably Jack, Doug and Gwen. Although I imagine she's caught on by now."

I snorted and rubbed my eyes with my free hand. "To answer your question, I'm working on it."

We sat in silence for a few moments. I looked over the beach. There were a few people scattered around. None I cared to talk to, aside from the Doc. I could see him warily eying my cigarette out of the corner of my eye.

"You really should quit," he chided me, breaking the spell. "Smoking is one of the worst things a person like you can do in a labor-intensive job."

"You always say that," I said, dismissing his thoughts on the matter. "'sides, it's not the worst thing I could do. I could… push Jack off a cliff, or date Nina."

"Or smoke," Alex repeated.

"Aw, shut up," I muttered. "It ain't hurting' me now, so I don't see the problem."

There was another few moments of silence between us. I broke it by changing the subject.

"Aren't you a little under dressed?" I asked, half-serious.

"The heat is way too much for me," Alex explained. "Although it is nice to see you, same as ever, sporting the same jeans and solid color plaid shirts."

"Hey, don't knock the look, it works."

"To each his own then."

"Right," I said, blowing smoke up in the air. "So, what's going down today?"

"I don't know really," replied Alex. "Maybe a swimming contest later, and the mayor was gabbing something about a bonfire after the sun sets. Say, where's Jack?"

"He'd said he'd come by sometime later today," I answered. "So, are there any girls around here that look decent in a bikini?"

* * *

At noon, the mayor wheeled a grill onto the beach. The grill itself looked like if someone started it, it would set itself on fire. But the mayor, in his own cheerful naivety, just found a box, stood on top of it, and started making lunch for everyone on the beach. He came over to the table, and insisted we try the burgers and hot dogs. By this point in the day, Joe had joined us, and all three of us reluctantly took some of the food. We grimaced at each other.

I had a burger, and it was actually fairly good. In fact, surprisingly well made. The was evenly grilled and the patty itself was the perfect size. It wasn't too big, but it wasn't too small and it wasn't too thick to fit in my mouth. After I took my first bite, I nodded approvingly towards the mayor. The little coot had actually done something right. Afterward, the other boys also started eating their food, and also liked the mayor's cooking.

I saw Gwen some distance away over the Doc's shoulder. She laughed a little and winked. She knew what I had been expecting from the mayor. I motioned for her to come over. She obliged.

I scarfed down my burger and we began pleasantly chatting while the other two ate. Jack hadn't showed up yet, so I lit another cigarette. Gwen didn't seem to mind.

A little while later, after everyone had finished eating, and the blackened grill had been wheeled away, the mayor stood on his box again.

"Everybody! Everyone listen!" he squealed.

The beach goers quieted down a bit, and turned their collective gazes towards the short figure who was still dressed in his usual top hat and red coat.

"Thank you, as per village tradition," the mayor continued. "It is now time for the swimming competition!"

Joe snorted. "Heh, he's trying this again, eh?"

The doc looked at him quizzically. "How do you mean?"

"Every year, he gets up on that box, and asks for volunteers, and no one does," Joe explained. "It always gets canceled."

"This year!" the mayor almost shouted. "All men on the beach must participate!"

I grunted. "Yeah, like you'll ever get me to do something stupid like that."

"And any man that does not will be subject to a harsh fine! And a tax to include a percentage of his income!"

I nearly choked on smoke, I hacked coughs in disbelief. I looked at Joe, I looked at Alex, and I looked at Gwen. "Can he do that?" I asked them all. Christ, Jack and I could not afford to have something like that levied on such a good season.

Joe groaned. "He might. I remember hearing something about a loophole in his mayoral powers that allows him to keep the town going, and festival participation probably counts as part of that."

"But can he levy that tax?"

"If he wants to? Short answer, yes, long answer, hell yes. The office of mayor allowing to do whatever he needs to keep the town surviving is what drove his little economic plan which brought your cousin here."

"Oh c'mon," said Gwen. "Lighten up guys, it'll be fun."

"Yeah, well it's not like I have a suit with me."

"Oh, I'm sure the mayor will provide you with one."

He did, as a matter of fact; he brought out dozens of swimsuits, all in various sizes. This fact left me contemplating on why he had so many in the first place. At any rate, I emerged from a pinstriped changing tent in a pair of neon green trunks with blue pastel Hawaiian flowers pasted all over. I crossed my arms and went over to the starting line. I didn't feel comfortable with my shirt off. I wasn't in the best of shape, despite the few weeks spent at the farm.

Joe was next to me. He poked me in the gut. "Nice body, friend." He teased.

"Shut up," I mumbled.

He laughed it off.

The men at the starting line included Joe, Alex, Bob, Blue, Kurt and myself. It was still a pretty low turnout, and some of the more elderly gentlemen on the beach excused themselves due to age. Although I think we were all glad about not having to see wrinkled old men with their shirts off.

The mayor put his box next to the end of the line and stood on it. He had a small pistol with him, presumably (and hopefully) filled with blanks. He began rattling off the rules and regulations of the contest.

"The object of the swimming race is to swim all the way out to that orange buoy and back." The mayor pointed far out to see. In the distance, an orange dot floated up and down. "First one back wins! Ready? On my mark, one… two… three… Go!"  
BANG!

The six of us plunged into the water and began swimming towards the orange buoy out somewhere in the sea. The water was cold, which shocked me to my bones at first, but I got used to it eventually.

I swam in the direction I assumed the buoy to be. I could barely see it over the waves coming in to crash on the shore. The splashing of the water from everyone else also obscured the view, and I found myself simply following the wild churning.

After a forever of swimming and having water splashed in my face, I could see the orange buoy. Bob and Kurt had already rounded it and were swimming back to shore. Alex was already halfway around it, and Joe and Blue were lagging far behind.

I came up to the buoy, and used it to steer me around. As I did this I rubbed my nostrils. Water had made their way in, and the feeling didn't agree with me. I pushed off the buoy and began backstroking. I went a little faster, but the only reason I maintained my fourth place was because Joe and Blue were worse swimmers than I. Both of them just doggy-paddled the whole way.

I went at a more leisurely pace. It was pointless to tire myself out over people I would never overtake. So I pleasantly and smoothly backstroked the rest of the way, and didn't stop until I crashed into shore, and had to walk the rest of the way with a somewhat sore back.

Joe and Blue came in a few minutes later, both arriving at the same time. Bob had won by a large margin against Kurt, and the Doc came in third. As soon Joe and Blue had come in, the mayor quickly announced the winner, who received a prize of everyone's congratulations.

I took an offered towel from Gwen and began drying my hair.

"What a waste of time," I said.

"Aw, are you sore that you lost?" Gwen said.

"No, not really," I said. "Just that I'm now wet and tired for no good reason except a possible chance of congratulations from someone I'd rather see thrown off a cliff."

Bob came over, with a stupid grin on his face. I could almost feel my eyes pre-empting what came next.

"Well, I won," he said smugly. "Poor Benson! Just fourth place? I thought you were farmers were supposed to be athletically fit! Oh well, better luck next year. Say, Gwen, how would you like to go find something to eat?"

"Sure," Gwen replied cheerily. She waved me goodbye and went off with Bob.

I stood there, open-mouthed, for what I can only assume was several minutes before Joe came up to me. He waved his hand in front of my face and called my name.

"Benson? Benson? Earth to Bensooooooon."

I blinked a few times and muttered incredulously. "That son of a _bitch_!"

Joe looked further down the beach where Gwen and Bob had gone. He chuckled. "Ah, I see. Seems you're not the only one who likes a certain blond. Heh."

"He just comes up here, brags about winning, and whisks Gwen away, that rat bastard!" I strangled the air.

"Ha, don't get too many thoughts about that," said Joe. "He's the town's shipper, the only shipper. People won't like it if you off him over that."

I sighed and crossed my arms. "God damn it. I won't be outdone by that Neanderthal."

Joe just laughed.

Jack finally showed up as Joe, Alex and I were gathering wood for the evening's bonfire. He acted like he hadn't been missing for the entire day, and we all saw through his lie easily. I called him out on it, but he refused to tell us where he had been. I just shrugged and moved on. So long as he was able to work the farm and not bother me, I didn't have any reason to care what he was doing.

As the sun set, Bob lit the bonfire, and we all gathered around it. It was mostly the younger folk in the town, as the more adult generation went off to dinner and to bed. We exchanged stories, told tales and were joined by two newcomers. Joe introduced them, and said that they came to town occasionally, but especially stuck around during the summer.

The first was a dark-skinned drifter from the south, the very deep south. He wore a red headband, a brown leather vest, white t-shirt and jean shorts. His eyes were an exotic green color and his sprouted and hung low from over the headband. The drifter's name was Dan, and had a self-proclaimed "swarthy Latin charm." He had flamboyant gestures, was increasingly open about his extravagant lifestyle, which included hedonistic acts that made my own days of excess look like a strict life of piety and chastity. Dan had a million and one stories, all which included him in various far off locations in trouble with some big bad seeking to oppress him and his ways. He was charismatic, confident, and a pretty decent guy. But I wouldn't let him anywhere near anyone's daughter.

The second guy was Dan's exact opposite. He was pale white, had stringy brown hair, wore a large pair of glasses with thick lenses and was the scrawniest excuse for a man I had ever seen. He wore brown suspenders, a green shirt and blue tie and gray slacks. His name was Louis and there was no doubt to what he was, a living train wreck of a human being, socially awkward and huge geek for sure. Louis was uptight about everything and seemed more tightly wound than a slinky. He was nervous about something, but about what I would never understand.

The group around the fire included the two newcomers, Ellen, Joe, Alex, Jack, Gwen, Bob, and myself. I managed to sit next to Gwen, but on her other side was the big oaf who seemed intent on cockblocking me at every angle. Aside from the new found competition, it was a generally joyous evening. Jack brought out his guitar, an old relic I hadn't seen in ages. We sang folk songs, and old classic rock ballads, and had an uproariously good time, until the mayor came back to the beach and told us to quiet down and break it up. Jack and I went home fairly cheery, despite Bob.

* * *

The Moonlight Bar and Grille opened, to my great joy, soon after the Beach Festival. Duke came down to the farm personally the day it would open to inform me.

"It'll be no party like at the Inn," Doug told me. "I like my events fairly low-key. But they'll be plenty of beer and whiskey."

"That's all I need." I replied, and told him to expect me at opening time.

Duke nodded. "We open at six, and we don't close 'til the sun comes up."

"I doubt you'll get anyone past midnight," I said skeptically. "This ain't the heart of the city."

The old barkeeper shrugged. "Yeah, I know, that's just the official hours for now. I doubt it'll stick, but you know."

The Moonlight Bar and Grille was a thin rectangular building just up the street from the Clinic. The main building was made up of sandy brown brick and sported a blue-shingled roof. There was a porch, newly built during the remodeling, with matching wooden furniture where patrons could go to smoke, drink or sober up.

Jack and I arrived promptly at six. We entered, the first ones to do so. We stood for a minute admiring our handiwork, and Duke's decorating skills. The insides were all made of hardwood floors and white painted walls. On the walls were hung a variety of objects, paintings ranging from surrealism to landscapes, classic rock record albums and alcohol-related paraphernalia. The bar cut the room in half, and to the far right was a gap where one could enter. A jukebox stood in this far-right corner near the gap. The only sitting room were the red-cushioned stools lined up in front of the bar.

Duke was behind the bar, stereotypically wiping a glass with some old dishrag. He was all dolled up tonight in a purple vest, white buttoned shirt and bow tie.

"Boys!" He greeted us. "C'mon in! What can I get ya?"

I held up two fingers. "Two beers, please."

Duke nodded, reached below the counter and brought up two bottles. He removed a bottle-opener from his pants pocket and took the caps off. He pushed the two beers towards us. "Enjoy, boys."

I took one, and handed the other to Jack. I slipped Duke some money. "Thanks Duke, you've no idea what it means to have this back in my life."

He laughed heartily and grinned at us. "I can imagine, Benson, I can imagine."

"Cheers!" said Jack, clinking his bottle against mine.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, cheers freaking cheers," I said quickly before taking big gulp. I had no idea how I survived this town without booze.

We drank our beers in silence. I took the opportunity to glance around at my surroundings. The counter was a dark brown and was clean enough to reflect my own appearance back at me. Behind the bar were shelves lined with various bottles of alcohol of all sizes, colors and shapes. There was an opening to my left, and I could hear the faint sizzles of a grill somewhere back there.

I finished my beer and held the opening up to my eye. It was completely empty. Then, some blonde figure appeared at the end of it.

"Can I get you another?" it said.

I lowered the bottle. The figure was sine young kid with wild curly blonde hair in a black vest and bow tie.

"What?" I said, slightly taken aback by the kid behind the counter. He barely looked old enough to drive.

"I said, can I get you another?" The kid said politely. He was baby-faced with soft blue eyes and a feminine nose.

"Are you even eighteen kid?" I said condescendingly. "You shouldn't even be in here." I could feel the hypocrisy burning in every word.

For a split second, just a second, it looked like the kid was about to blow his top, but the emotion passed from his face and he relaxed. His friendly demeanor returned.

"No, I'm twenty-six." He answered.

"Get the hell out of here!"

"No," he said with a small smile. "I'm actually am twenty-six. I looked about ten years younger."

"Oh. I guess I owe you an apology."

"Nah, don't worry about it," the 'kid' said. "You're not the first, or the last."

"I think I will have that second beer after all," I said. I put some money on the counter. "I'm Benson."

"Carl," the kid replied, as he took the money and handed me another cold one.

I took a swig of beer. "Never seen you in town before."

"Just got here yesterday." Carl answered.

"So what are you in for?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why are you here in the middle of nowhere? You're a young kid who came all the way out here to tend bar. You gotta be here for some reason, there's nothing else to do but rot."

Carl shrugged. "Destiny, I guess. It all just felt right coming here."

"Eh, can't be worse than the reason I'm here."

"Heh, and why are you here brother?"

I took another drink of beer. "No where else to go, my last job went foul, and I've been blacklisted everywhere else."

"That's tough," Carl said sympathetically.

"It's a lot less philosophical than your reason." I said.

"Hey, I'll talk philosophy with you anytime if you'd like," said Carl. "But, my reason isn't so much that, as gut."

"Hmm, I may take you up on that offer one day."

Bursts of laughter exploded from the other end of the bar. Jack had migrated down towards the other end and was engaged in conversation with some gorgeous broad. Whoever she was, she was a real blond bombshell. I looked at her, wondering just who she was and why couldn't she have been at the Beach Festival.

Carl had drifted away as I was distracted to tend to some customer who had just come in. When he came back, I asked him whom she was.

"Hm? Oh. _Her_. That's Eve," Carl explained. "Came here on the same boat I did."

"So what's her story?" I pressed him for more answers. "What's top class beauty like her doing in a dead end dump like this?"

Carl just shrugged. "Everyone's got their own reasons," he said mysteriously. "I haven't really talked to her but…"

"But what?"

"Let's just say I've heard she only likes a certain kind of talk."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh really."

Carl just grinned and shook his head. "Stay clear of her, brother," he said quietly. "No good karma can come from her."

I scoffed and order another beer. Carl drifted away again, for good this time as the bar filled with more patrons. I drank in silence for a bit, taking in the smells of the alcohol, the cheap food and the sounds of classic rock coming from the jukebox.

Jack stumbled over, tripping over three patrons and a bar stool. "Benshun," the silly bastard slurred. "When dids shoo get here?"

I gave a short laugh. "Jack, you lightweight, you're drunk."

"No I'm knots." Jack protested. I grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him towards the door.

"Yes, you are," I said. "C'mon, let's go home.

I walked home. Jack stumbled the entire way.

* * *

I awoke the next morning feeling like a million bucks. I stretched and lumbered out of bed. It was nearly eight 'o clock. We had slept in. I shook Jack awake.

He moaned and held his head in his hands. "Don't do that."

I chuckled at him. "You're hung over. How does it feel?"

"Like crap." He said. "Ugh, I feel like my head is going to burst."

"That's what happens when you drink too much," I said. "Don't drink so much next time. I'll let you sleep the entire day, I'll take care of the chores."

"Thanks Benson," he said quietly.

"Anytime," I replied on my way out the door. "Anytime."


End file.
